


beauty in ordinary things

by SJAandDWfan



Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: F/F, The Office AU, listen jim and pam have such greenelan vibes its not even funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 00:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 56,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21518953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SJAandDWfan/pseuds/SJAandDWfan
Summary: “People say I am the best boss,” Trent says. “They go, ‘God, we’ve never worked in a place like this before. You’re hilarious, and you get the best out of us.’”He picks up a mug from out of frame. It’s white in color, with the words WORLD’S BEST BOSS printed in plain black lettering on it. He looks proudly at the camera.“I think this pretty much sums it up.” He pauses. “I found it at Spencer Gifts.”orthe office au
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan
Comments: 44
Kudos: 91





	1. pilot

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to the office. each chapter will be based off an episode (or multiple episodes). i have a list and i'm only on season 7. there might be a lot of chapters. we'll see!
> 
> title is a quote from the finale of the show, which i have not seen yet but i do know it's a great quote!

“Alright, Emma, your quarterlies look very good.”

Trent sits in the chair in his office, looking at the young woman sat across the desk from him. They’re both wearing a shirt and tie, hers scruffier than his. Her blonde hair is messy, too, as opposed to Trent’s slicked-back look. The camera is close to his face, but he pays it no mind as he continues to address her.

“How are things going at the library?”

“Oh, I told you I couldn’t close it, so…” Emma’s voice trails off.

The camera zooms out as Trent spreads his hands in front of him, a knowing smile on his face. “So, you’ve come to the master for guidance? Is this what you’re saying, Grasshopper?”

Emma laughs uncomfortably. “Uh, actually, you called me in here. But, yeah.”

“Alright.” Trent looks smug. “Well, let me show you how it’s done.”

* * *

“Yes, I’d like to speak to your office manager, please.”

Trent’s on the phone. Emma is still sat, slouched in her chair, opposite him. Trent raises his voice as soon as he’s through to the manager.

“Yes, hello. This is Trent Oliver. I am the Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin paper products. Just wanted to talk to you _manager a manager_.”

* * *

The office is busy, yet somehow dull.

* * *

“Alright, done deal!” Trent exclaims. He adopts a bad Irish accent. “Thank you very much, sir! You’re a gentleman and a scholar.”

He pauses, eyes going wide for a moment before he covers up his surprise. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, and he loses the accent.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Okay. I’m sorry. My mistake.” He hangs up, clearing his throat, turning to look at Emma sheepishly. “That was, um, a woman I was talking to. So. She had a very low voice. Probably a smoker.”

Trent raises his eyebrows at the camera. He clears his throat again, addressing Emma with the confidence of a man who thinks he can do no wrong.

“So, that’s the way it’s done.”

* * *

Trent walks into frame, standing by the Dunder Mifflin sign just outside the office. “I’ve been at Dunder Mifflin for twelve years,” he says. “The last four as Regional Manager.” He leads the camera through the door into the office. “Ah, see, here we have the entire floor. This is my kingdom, as far as the eye can see.”

He stops at the receptionist desk, where a woman with dark, curly hair sits. She looks a little apprehensive, like she’s not sure what’s going to come out of Trent’s mouth as he arrives.

“Ah! This is our receptionist, Alyssa.” He introduces her to the camera. Alyssa gives a little wave. Trent carries on. “Alyssa Greene. She’s been with us, um, for forever. Right, Alyssa?”

Alyssa smiles bashfully. “Well, I don’t know—”

“Her mom got her the job here one summer in college and now we can’t get rid of her!” Trent laughs, and Alyssa deflates slightly. “Any messages?”

“Just a fax.”

Alyssa hands him a piece of paper. Trent frowns when he sees it. “Alyssa, this is from corporate. How many times have I told you that there’s a special filing cabinet for things from corporate?”

“You haven’t told me—”

“It’s called the wastepaper basket,” Trent says, crumpling the paper up and tossing it somewhere behind Alyssa with a laugh. The camera zooms in on the half-worried, half-annoyed look on her face. Trent giggles, pointing jovially at her. “Look at that face!”

* * *

“People say I am the best boss,” Trent says. “They go, ‘God, we’ve never worked in a place like this before. You’re hilarious, and you get the best out of us.’”

He picks up a mug from out of frame. It’s white in color, with the words WORLD’S BEST BOSS printed in plain black lettering on it. He looks proudly at the camera.

“I think this pretty much sums it up.” He pauses. “I found it at Spencer Gifts.”

* * *

Greg Nolan sits at his desk, singing quietly under his breath. He imitates the drums in the song as he plugs a new cord into his work phone. The camera slowly zooms in on Emma at the desk perpendicular to his. She’s resting her chin in one hand, her elbow propped on her desk. She looks, slightly pained, into the camera.

* * *

“My job is to speak to clients, um, on the phone, about quantities, and, uh, types of… copier paper,” Emma tells the camera, sat in the conference room alone. She looks tired. “You know, whether we can supply it to them, whether they can, uh… pay for it. And, um…”

She’s grasping at straws trying to find something interesting to say about what she does. She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, laughing a little.

“I’m boring myself just talking about this.”

* * *

Emma leans on Alyssa’s desk. The camera watches them from far away. They’re relaxed in a way that neither of them were before as Alyssa grins up at her.

“I have an important question for you.”

“Yes?”

Alyssa giggles, barely able to get the words out. “Um, are you going to Kaylee’s cat party on Sunday?”

“Yeah, stop,” Emma snorts. She sighs. “That is ridiculous.”

They smile softly at each other; a shared joke.

* * *

A man with a mop of dark hair stands at Alyssa’s desk, listening to the directions she’s giving. Trent strides out of his office, interrupting and drawing the man’s attention to himself.

“Hey.”

Alyssa gestures to him. “This is Mr. Oliver.”

“Guilty. Guilty as charged,” Trent says, putting on an overly formal voice as he shakes the young man’s hand.

“Marcus Howard, from the temp agency,” the man introduces himself. “Daniqua sent me down to start today.”

“Howard, like Moe Howard? Three Stooges.” Trent grins. Alyssa groans under her breath from off-camera, but Trent ignores her. “Watch this, this is Moe.” He makes a series of odd noises that are clearly meant to be an impression, laughing once he’s done and high-fiving a reluctant Marcus. “Oh, Alyssa. It’s a guy thing.”

The camera pans to Alyssa, who looks completely lost.

* * *

Alyssa looks at the camera, sat in the conference room for her interview. “Every day I ask myself, why here. I just, I don’t think it’s many little girls’ dream to be a receptionist.” She hesitates, a tiny smile creeping onto her face. “I like to do illustrations. Um, mostly watercolor, a few oil pencil, um… Emma thinks they’re good.”

* * *

Emma lines the border between her and Greg’s desks with pencils, building a fortress while he’s away getting a mug of coffee. There are pencils shoved, eraser-end, into the small gap between the tables, and there are more taped to the edge of her desk phone, too. She’s concentrating hard, her tongue poking out between her teeth as she puts more in place.

Greg comes back, coffee in hand. He takes one look at the barricade, horrified, as he sits down.

“You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Safety violation, I could fall and pierce… an organ,” Greg says, only hesitating a little.

Emma makes a face, crossing her fingers. “We’ll see.”

Greg glares at her for a moment before taking his desk phone and using it to smash down the pencils between the desks like he’s playing Whack-a-Mole. Emma spins in her seat, resting her chin in her palm as she looks at the camera with a smug smile.

“Whoever said that working with your cousin wasn’t fun is a liar.”

* * *

Emma shakes Marcus’ hand hastily as he’s shown around the office by Trent, who stops at Greg’s desk. Marcus looks a little overwhelmed.

“Whoa, whoa, watch out for this guy,” Trent says, resting his hands on Greg’s shoulders from behind. “Greg Nolan in the building. My favorite Nolan. Or is he?”

Greg’s hopeful look is wiped off his face.

“This is Marcus, the new temp,” Trent continues. “Introduce yourself.”

“Greg Nolan, Assistant Regional Manager.” Greg shakes Marcus’ hand.

“Assistant _to_ the Regional Manager,” Trent corrects him. “So, uh, Greg, tell him about the Kung Fu and the car and everything.”

Greg smiles proudly. “Yeah, I got a ’78 two-eighty Z. Bought it for twelve hundred, fixed it up. Now it’s worth three grand.”

“That’s his profit,” Trent interjects.

“Yeah, uh, new engine. Suspension. I got a respray. Oh, I printed some photos for my desk drawer.” Greg reaches down to open his drawer. Marcus looks a little confused at the prospect of physical copies of the pictures, but the focus is pulled to Greg once again as he lets out a shout of frustration. “Damn it!”

He rounds on Emma, but Trent puts a hand on his shoulder again. “Hold on. Judge is in session, what’s the problem here?”

“She put my stuff in Jell-O again!” Greg pulls a plate of yellow Jell-O out of the drawer, dumping it on the desk. In it, sits his stapler. Snorts are heard around the office.

The camera pans to Alyssa laughing, her hands over her face and her eyes alight, before moving to settle on Emma – who is biting her lip in a poor attempt at concealing her amusement. There’s another pencil in her hand.

“That’s real professional, thanks,” Greg spits at her. “That’s the third time, and it wasn’t even funny the first two times either, Emma.”

* * *

“It’s okay here, but sometimes people take advantage because it’s so relaxed,” Greg says sagely. “I’m a volunteer sheriff’s deputy on the weekends. And you cannot screw around there. It’s sort of… one of the rules.”

* * *

Greg plunges his hand into the Jell-O in an attempt to reach his stapler, but Trent pulls him back.

“No, do not take it out,” he says. “You have to eat it out of there, because there are starving people in the world—” Trent starts laughing, before sobering up and looking at the camera, “—which I hate, and it’s a waste of that kind of food.”

“Okay, you know what?” Greg turns to Marcus, who looks completely bewildered. “You can be a witness.” Greg looks imploringly at Trent. “Reprimand her, please.”

The camera pans to Emma, who’s now eating red Jell-O out of a little cup with a plastic spoon. She shrugs, the picture of innocence. “How do you know it was me?”

“It’s _always_ you,” Greg hisses. “Are you going to discipline her, or not?”

“Here’s the thing, you guys,” Trent begins, addressing the office at large. “The thing about a practical joke is that you have to know when to start as well as when to stop. And, yeah, Emma, now is the time to stop putting Greg’s personal effects into Jell-O.”

“Okay.” Emma clears her throat. She puts the cup down on her desk. “Greg, I’m sorry, because… I have always been your biggest flan.”

Trent cracks up. “Nice! That’s the way it is around here,” he tells Marcus. “It just goes round and round.”

“You should have put her in custardy,” Marcus says, and Trent’s eyes light up.

“Yes! New guy!”

Greg looks pissed. “I guess what I’m most concerned with is damage to company property. That’s all.”

There’s silence for a long moment as everyone looks to Trent. He looks deep in thought.

“Pudding…” he mumbles eventually. “Putting. I’m trying to think what other dessert to do.”

* * *

Emma’s back at Alyssa’s desk at gone five o’clock, the two of them giggling over Emma’s Jell-O stunt. Emma clears her throat, fiddling with something in her hands.

“Do you like going out at the end of the week for a drink?” she asks, forced-casual.

“Yeah,” Alyssa says.

“Well, uh, that’s why we’re all going out. So we can have an end-of-the-week drink,” Emma says, gesturing a little when she’s not fiddling with the little plastic disk she’s holding.

Alyssa meets her eyes. “So when are we going out?”

“Um, tonight, hopefully,” Emma says. She begins to say more, but then they both pull back as the door to the office opens and a woman swaggers in. She’s wearing a Dunder Mifflin jacket, the name _Rachel_ emblazoned on the breast, and she raises her eyebrows at Emma before turning her attention to Alyssa.

“Hi, baby,” she says.

“Hey,” Alyssa replies, her voice a little higher than usual.

* * *

“Uh, Rachel’s my fiancée,” Alyssa explains to the camera. “We’ve been engaged about, um… about three years. And, uh, we were supposed to be getting married in September, but I think we’re gonna get married in the spring.” She nods to herself, her eyes darting to the ground.

* * *

“Do you mind if I go out for a drink with these guys?” Alyssa asks Rachel, nodding to Emma and the rest of the office.

Rachel winces. “Uh, no, no, come on. Let’s get out of here. Go home.”

Emma looks down, fiddling with her tie. Alyssa is silent for a moment before answering.

“Okay, um, I’m gonna be a few minutes, though,” she says. “It’s only five-twenty. I still have to do my faxes.”

As she speaks, Rachel’s eyebrows raise in disbelief. Alyssa gets up from her chair, walking away from her desk and leaving her fiancée with Emma. Emma sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, before turning to Rachel.

“You know what? You should come with us,” she suggests, fiddling with her tie again. “Because, you know, we’re all going out, and it could be a good chance for you to… see what people are like outside the office. I think it could be fun.”

“We gotta get going,” Rachel tells her, and Emma nods quickly.

They stand there in awkward silence for several long seconds. Emma scratches her chin, pretending to look up at the clock.

* * *

“Do I think I’ll be invited to the wedding?” Emma repeats slowly. She furrows her brow and scratches absently at her head, before giving the camera a look.

* * *

When Alyssa’s finally on her way out, Rachel has gone down to wait in their car. She passes Emma’s desk on her way, stopping and greeting her with a soft, “Hey.”

“Hi. How are you?” Emma asks, a little breathless as she spins around in her chair to face her.

“Good,” Alyssa says. She jerks a thumb over her shoulder at the door. “I thought you were going out for a drink with—”

“Oh, no, no,” Emma says, playing it off. “Just going to, uh…” They both glance a little self-consciously at the camera that’s on them. “How’s your headache?”

“It’s better. Thanks,” Alyssa says, her shoulders dropping a bit.

“Good. Good, that’s great.”

“Is, uh—” Alyssa gestures to where Rachel had been standing before, before turning back to Emma. “Are you, uh…” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Am I walking out?” Emma guesses.

“Yes,” Alyssa says, laughing a little.

Emma grins, carding a hand through her own hair as she nods at the door. “Do you wanna?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Emma says, turning to shut down her computer. “Let me just—”

A car honks loudly from the lot below, startling them both.

“Oh. Rachel.” Emma’s eyebrows raise in surprise, like she’d forgotten.

Alyssa’s eyes are closed. “Yeah. Listen, have a nice weekend.”

She walks away, her voice apologetic. Emma stares after her for a moment before leaning back casually in her chair.

“Yeah, definitely. You, too. Enjoy it.”

Alyssa leaves, and Emma stares blankly into the distance for a moment. Suddenly, she reaches down underneath her desk, pulling a covered, slightly-wobbling, object out. She stands, making her way to Trent’s office. She catches sight of the camera, puffing out her cheeks for a moment.

“You know what? Just come here,” she says. The camera follows her to Trent’s office, where she sets the object down on the desk. With a flourish, she whips off the tea towel that’s covering it to reveal Trent’s WORLD’S BEST BOSS mug encased in Jell-O.

* * *

“Mr. Deckerd, we didn’t lose your sale today, did we?” Emma asks, at the end of the day from hell the next week. “Excellent! Okay… let me just get your—What’s that? No, we didn’t close last time. I just need your, uh… Oh. What code were you given?” Realization sinks in. “Oh, okay. Yeah, no, that’s actually another salesman here. I can redo it if you wanna do that? He gave you a discount? No, I don’t blame you.”

She sighs, looking at Greg’s empty desk, before getting up and joining the meeting that’s in progress in the conference room. Everyone is staring blankly at Trent, who’s waxing poetic about a play he saw during his last visit to New York for a corporate meeting. Emma sits down next to Alyssa, who looks as if she’s about to fall asleep.

Sure enough, not thirty seconds later, Alyssa’s head drops onto Emma’s shoulder. Emma looks down at her, curious, as the camera zooms in on the two of them. She smiles to herself, letting her eyes slip shut for a moment.

Trent checks the time. “Well, it’s five o’clock. Everyone out.”

One by one, everyone filters out, but Emma stays put. She looks at the camera, then at Alyssa – who’s sound asleep on her shoulder – before clearing her throat quietly.

“Uh, hey.”

“Hm?” Alyssa sleepily blinks her eyes open. They widen a little, and she lifts her head off Emma’s shoulder.

“We can go,” Emma tells her, a breathless laugh escaping her.

“Sorry,” Alyssa whispers shyly, getting to her feet.

“It’s fine,” Emma says softly. “Talk to you later.”

* * *

“Uh…” Emma ponders it over. She shakes her head slowly, eyes drifting beyond the camera. “Not a bad day.”

Slowly, she smiles.


	2. basketball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is based off of episode 1x05! thank you to everyone who read the first chapter :))

Trent saunters into the office with a sports bag slung over his shoulder. He grins at Alyssa, who’s sat at her desk, and turns his attention to Emma.

“Hey. You ready?”

Emma holds up a sports bag of her own, and Trent nods approvingly.

“Alright, nice. Hey, Marcus?”

The camera zooms in on Marcus at his temp desk. He, too, holds up a bag, looking a little disgruntled.

“Very good,” Trent says, giving the camera an excited smile before going to open the door of his office. Greg’s voice pulls his attention back to the bullpen.

“Trent.”

The camera pans to reveal Greg holding up his gym bag over his head, then pans back to Trent, who ignores him as best he can and walks into his office. Greg lowers his bag.

* * *

“Today at lunchtime, we are going to be playing the warehouse staff in a friendly little game of basketball,” Trent says. “My idea. The last time I was down there, I noticed they’d put up a couple of hoops. And I play basketball every weekend, so I thought… this might be kinda fun. And so I start messin’ around, and I’m sinking a few—” he shrugs modestly, “—you know, swish, swish, swish. Nothing but net. And their jaws drop to the floor.”

He gets lost in the memory for a moment before focusing in on the interview again.

“But, you know, it’s really just a good friendly game, a reason for everybody to get together.”

* * *

“I think I should be on the team.”

Greg sits in Trent’s office, the desk separating them. Greg looks determined, and Trent looks exasperated. He rests his head in his hands.

“No.” Trent clears his throat, sitting up a bit. “And that’s not me being mean. That is based on your past behaviour.”

“Oh, please,” Greg scoffs.

Trent turns to the camera. “When I let him come to my pick-up game—”

“I apologized for that—”

“I vouched for you!” Trent says. “I vouched for you in front of everyone, Greg.”

Greg hunches his shoulders, fiddling with one of the plastic toys on Trent’s desk. Trent snatches it from his hands, putting it out of his reach.

“Alright, here’s what I’m going to do.” Trent steeples his fingers together. “The hand strikes and gives a flower. You are not going to play basketball, but I need somebody to come in and take over the holiday and weekend work calendar.”

“I can handle that,” Greg says.

“Good. It’ll be fun.” Trent smiles. “Because corporate wants somebody to be here on Saturday, and so we’re gonna have to have a couple of people come in on the weekends, and I know nobody’s gonna wanna do it and everybody’s gonna complain and bitch, and I don’t wanna have to deal with it.”

Greg nods. “And that’s why you have an Assistant Regional Manager.”

“Yes, it is,” Trent says, pausing briefly before adding, “Assistant to the Regional Manager.”

“Same thing,” Greg says, glancing at the camera with a significant look.

“No, it’s not. It’s lower, so…”

Greg is still looking at the camera. “It’s close.”

Trent rolls his eyes.

* * *

Emma is working at her desk, studiously ignoring the oversized board her cousin has in front of him. Greg has divided the board into sections, thinking aloud.

“So, we need someone to work this Saturday,” he says. “And I think that that should be… Emma.” He tosses his tie over his shoulder dramatically.

“God, this is so sad,” Emma sighs, leaning back in her chair. “This is the smallest amount of power I’ve ever seen go to someone’s head. Angie, can you believe this?”

The camera pans to Angie, a tall blonde woman also in the sales department. Angie doesn’t even look up from her computer. “Keep me out of it.”

Alyssa, who had been watching Emma, scratches at the side of her neck.

* * *

“My fiancée has plans for us this Saturday,” Alyssa says, “so I really hope Greg doesn’t make me work. Maybe I should kill him. I’m kidding,” she laughs. “Kidding. Totally kidding.”

She stares off into the distance.

* * *

“No, no, I know that the warranty’s expired, but isn’t it supposed to last longer than two years if it isn’t defective?” Alyssa asks, on the phone at her desk. She’s frazzled, and it gets Emma’s attention. Alyssa sighs. “Okay, fine, three years.”

* * *

“Alyssa gets a little down,” Emma says, sat next to the window of the conference room as she talks to the camera. “Her toaster oven broke. Um, which she got at her engagement shower, for a wedding that still has yet to be set.”

She quirks her lips to the side.

“And that was three years ago.”

* * *

“I have a hoop in my driveway,” Barry supplies.

Trent doesn’t even hesitate. “No.”

He’s looking for more players, and Greg is quick to grab his attention. “Trent, look.”

He grabs the plastic pen holder, emptying its contents onto his desk, and throws it in the direction of the wastepaper basket. It misses, but not by much.

“Ugh,” Trent says. “Okay, here’s the team. Me, Shelby, Emma, Marcus… and Greg.”

Greg fist pumps. “Yes! Can I be team captain?”

“No, I’m team captain,” Trent tells him.

“Can I be team manager?”

“No, I am the team manager!” Trent rubs at his eyes. “You can be assistant to the team manager.”

Greg’s eyes light up. “Assistant team manager?”

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll see who’s working this weekend, then,” Greg says casually, reaching for his board.

Trent sighs. “Emma, you’re in charge of the vacation schedule now.”

“Oh my God.” Emma rolls her eyes.

“Threat neutralized,” Trent announces.

Greg stares at Emma in disbelief.

* * *

Jules, one of the warehouse workers, walks out of the break room and into the bullpen. Immediately, Trent zeroes in on him, and Jules grits his teeth.

“Uh-oh, uh-oh. It’s a spy from the warehouse,” Trent jokes. “Trying to figure out our plays, huh, man?”

“Just getting a tea bag,” Jules says, holding it up.

Trent laughs as Jules brushes past him. “Oh, he’s running! But he can’t hide, because you know what? One o’clock, you better bring your A-game. Because me and my posse are gonna be in your face. Right in your face!”

“Why don’t we make it more interesting?” Jules suggests. “Loser buys dinner at Farley’s.”

“Oh, I like the way you think,” Trent says gamely. “I’m gonna take that one step further. Loser works on Saturday.”

Jules just stares at him. “No… that’s not as much fun.”

“Are you chicken?” Trent asks. He starts to cluck, and the others in the bullpen sigh, like they somehow expected this.

“You know what?” Jules shakes his head, taking a step closer. “You’re on.”

“Cool,” Trent says, grinning as Jules walks away. Greg sidles up to him, quietly imitating the clucking. Trent turns to him sternly. “Don’t screw this up.”

* * *

“Basketball?” Emma grins crookedly. “It was kinda my thing in high school, besides guitar. And I’m, yeah, I’m looking forward to playing. You know, I think I’m gonna impress a few people in here.”

She glances at the camera.

* * *

Emma sits in a chair across from Alyssa’s desk, lacing up her sneakers. She’s dressed, ready for the game, in shorts and a plain t-shirt. Alyssa is working at her computer, but she sneaks a glance at her.

“You coming down to the warehouse to watch?” Emma asks causally.

“Yeah, I’m just forwarding the phones,” Alyssa says.

“You gonna wish me luck?”

“Yeah, you’re gonna need it,” Alyssa says immediately, biting her lip to stop herself from grinning too wide.

Emma gasps, mock-offended. “Woah. Was that trash talk?”

Alyssa laughs. “I’m just saying, Rachel is very competitive. And she wants to take the waverunners to the lake this Saturday, so…”

“Well, I’m going to the outlet mall on Saturday,” Emma announces. “So if you wanna save big on brand names—” Alyssa laughs again, “—and Rachel has to work… which she will, because I’m also competitive… you should feel free to come along.”

Alyssa pretends to think on it. “Um, I think I’m gonna be up at the lake.” She grins at Emma, who narrows her eyes playfully.

“I think I’ll see you at the mall,” she says slowly, a smile creeping onto her face. “Yeah.”

Alyssa shakes her head fondly, giggling to herself.

* * *

Everyone’s down in the warehouse, ready to either play or spectate. Emma and Alyssa stand next to each other at the side of the court, taking a step apart when Rachel walks into the warehouse wearing a tank top that shows off muscled arms. Alyssa turns to her, whispering something just before Rachel kisses her.

Emma shifts awkwardly, looking away as the kiss deepens.

“Alright, guys,” Trent says. “Let’s bring it in. Here we go.”

Everyone scrambles into place. Trent faces down the warehouse team, spreading his hands wide placatingly.

“Listen, this is just going to be a friendly game, right? We are all on the same team here. The Dunder Mifflin team.” He snorts, turning to Rachel and the other warehouse staff. “Of course, if you beat us, you’re fired.”

The warehouse team stare back, unimpressed.

“That’s a joke,” Trent says with a laugh. He claps his hands together twice. “Okay, let’s do it!”

Emma turns to Rachel. “Um, have a good game.”

Rachel nods at her. “Yeah, you too. Should be fun.”

Trent gathers the office team in a huddle. “Okay, Marcus, you have Jules. I have Rachel—”

“Really?” Emma interrupts. “I thought I’d take Rachel.”

They turn to look at Rachel, who’s sinking shot after shot.

“No, actually, I think Rachel’s their best player,” Trent says. “So, Greg. You have the East German girl. Okay.”

Greg whips his shirt off. “We’ll be skins.”

“Come on, Greg,” Emma groans.

“What?” Greg looks around. “Shirts on or off?”

“On,” Trent says. “Just put it on.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Trent gathers up the ball. “Alyssa, you kind of have your foot in both camps here. Why don’t you do the jump ball, okay?”

Alyssa walks forward, looking less than enthused. Rachel grins at her.

“Don’t listen to him, baby,” she says. “Trust me. Tip it my way or you’ll be sleeping in the car.”

It’s clearly meant to be a joke, but Alyssa frowns. Emma’s jaw tightens.

* * *

It’s a very one-sided game to begin with. The office staff can’t get a shot in between Rachel and Jules’ constant baskets, until Emma breaks free. She comes face to face with Rachel, hesitating for a second before faking one way and going the other. She throws the ball and it lands through the hoop. Alyssa whoops from the sidelines.

Trent attempts to score from the other end of the court, and misses. “Oh, come on! What is wrong with me today? I usually hit those.”

Everyone ignores him.

Greg scores, celebrating as he turns to Trent, who just looks at him.

“Greg, I was open.”

* * *

Trent takes his time with the throw, drawn from a foul. He bounces the ball again and again before finally taking aim, and throws it right over the top of the hoop.

* * *

Eventually, Trent calls a time out.

“Bring it in,” he yells. “What’s going on? You guys are playing like losers.”

“You know what, let me take Rachel,” Emma says determinedly.

“Alright, we’ll switch,” Trent allows. Emma nods to herself.

With this change, the office team begins to catch up rapidly. Emma and Shelby are free to work together to score, and even Greg and Marcus score a few baskets each. Emma scores once more, jogging past the sidelines and throwing a playful look at Alyssa. As she keeps going, Alyssa’s eyes glance up and down her body, a blush on her cheeks.

The game starts to get more physical, and eventually Emma ends up with Rachel’s elbow in her face. She squeaks, clutching her mouth.

“Whoa, whoa, foul!” Trent shouts, as the spectators get up from their bench in concern. Emma wipes some blood from her lip. Alyssa’s eyes are wide, and Trent winces. “Oh, that is… you alright, Emma? Suck it up.”

Emma scores on Rachel, ignoring Greg’s attempt at a chest bump as she marches back to her starting position. She scores on her again immediately after, and Rachel grinds her teeth as she glares at the camera. Alyssa’s eyes are fixed on Emma.

* * *

Marcus dribbles the ball towards the hoop. Greg steals it, shooting and scoring. Marcus just stares at him.

“Same team, dude.”

* * *

“Shelby, what’s the score?” Trent asks, panting as he stops by where Shelby and Alyssa are sat.

Shelby briefly looks up from the pad of paper on her lap. “You’re ahead.”

“Yes!” Trent claps his hands together and jogs back onto the makeshift court. “Here we go!”

It’s not long after this that Trent gets accidentally hit in the face. He stumbles back dramatically, shock and horror in his expression, and rounds on the older man who had mistakenly hit him.

“Ow! That’s a foul!”

“I’m so sorry,” the man says. Trent backs up when he tries to approach. “You alright?”

“That hurts,” Trent groans, his hand over his eye. He pulls it away and glares at the man. “What’s your problem? Just clocking me for no reason!”

“I didn’t mean to—“

Jules interrupts impatiently. “Just take your shot, Trent.”

But Trent’s lip is wobbling. “No, that was a personal intentional foul!”

“But I just put my arm up and—”

“No, game over,” Trent insists, waving his hands around and turning towards the rest of the players. “Game over!”

Rachel looks around in angry confusion. Emma doubles over, wiping more blood from her lip and resting her hands on her thighs. Her head is bowed as Trent continues.

“That’s it. I’m _sorry_ , you know.” He tries to appeal to both teams. “I hate to do it this way, but we were having a friendly game… It’s a damn shame.”

Shelby walks up to him, eyebrows raised. “This is a cold pack.”

“Gimme that,” Greg says, seizing it from her hands. He shakes it vigorously. “You have to break the interior bag.”

The cold pack bursts in Trent’s face. “Thank you, Greg.”

“Wait,” one of the warehouse staff says. “What, does that mean it’s a tie? What’s going on?”

“Well, let’s just say whoever was ahead won,” Trent says casually, shrugging.

Jules’ brow is furrowed, and then realization strikes him. “That was you.”

“That was us, really?” Trent’s eyes go wide. “I didn’t know.”

Emma shakes her head, the basketball tucked under her arm. Trent puffs out his cheeks.

“I guess you guys are working Saturday.”

Rachel steps forwards, glaring. “No. I’m not coming in on Saturday.”

“Yeah, this isn’t happening,” Jules agrees, stepping towards Trent too.

“Well…” Trent swallows. “I _am_ the boss…”

“We’re coming in on Monday, right?” Rachel’s voice is hard. She takes another step towards Trent and, although she isn’t as tall as him, it’s clear he’s intimidated. “Monday?”

Emma looks between Rachel and Trent, a little scared. Her shirt is drenched in sweat from the effort of the game. Her hair is plastered to her forehead. Trent forces a laugh.

“You guys believed me? Come on, you should know me better than that.” He shifts on the spot. “No, of course, we’re coming in on Saturday.”

The office team groan in tandem. Emma rolls her eyes, walking off towards one of the hoops. The warehouse staff, having got what they wanted, amble off. Trent laughs uncomfortably. Almost everyone leaves.

Emma and Marcus stand by the hoop, tossing the ball to Barry, who throws shot after shot. Each one of them is on target.

* * *

“So, I talked to this woman about it and it all looks good so far,” Emma tells Alyssa, slumped in the same chair as she was earlier. “I haven’t signed anything yet…”

She trails off as Rachel walks in. She’s changed back into her warehouse uniform, and glances at Emma before her expression softens as she turns to Alyssa.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” Alyssa greets her, standing up to grab her coat.

“Look at Larry Bird,” Rachel says to Emma, leaning against Alyssa’s desk with a little smirk on her face. “Larry legend.”

“Yeah, she’s uh…” Alyssa gives Emma a slightly shy smile. “She’s pretty good, huh?”

They walk past Emma, who grins at the camera. Alyssa clears her throat, turning her attention back to Rachel as they leave.

“Let’s get you into a tub, yeah?”

Rachel’s voice is low. “Let’s get _you_ into a tub.”

Emma’s smile fades.

Trent claps his hands as he emerges from his office. “What a game, huh?”

Shelby just glares at him. “What time do we have to come in?”

“Come on, let’s not be gloomy here,” Trent says. “We’re all in this together. We’re a team.”

There’s a long silence where everyone just stares at Trent, who has stuffed tissues up his nose, presumably for his eye injury. Trent sighs.

“You know what? Screw corporate. Nobody’s coming in on Saturday,” he announces. “You have the day off.”

* * *

“The great thing about sports is that it is all about character,” Trent says, drawing a heart shape over his chest. “And you can learn lessons about life even if you don’t win. But we did. Because we were ahead.”


	3. the dundies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is based off of episode 2x01!!

“Tonight is the Dundies, the annual employee awards night here at Dunder Mifflin,” Trent says, as the camera slowly pans over a collection of shiny gold-colored plastic trophies on his desk. The camera cuts to him holding up another award. “This is everybody’s favorite day. Everybody looks forward to it, because a lot of the people here don’t get trophies very often. Plus, bonus: It’s really, really funny.”

* * *

“So, you ready for the Dundies?” Emma asks, taking some candy from the bowl on Alyssa’s desk.

Alyssa makes a face. “Ugh.”

* * *

“You know what they say about a car wreck, where it’s so awful you can’t look away?” Alyssa sighs. “The Dundies are like a car wreck that you want to look away from, but you have to stare at it because your boss is making you.”

* * *

Trent walks over to Emma and Alyssa, almost bouncing with excitement.

“Hey, Nolan,” he greets Emma. “Damn, the Dorkiest Glasses award is gonna be a close race between you and Sheldon this year.”

Emma just looks at him. “What?”

“Why don’t I take you on a tour of past Dundie winners?” Trent asks the camera, clapping Emma on the shoulder and walking her away from Alyssa and back towards her own desk. “Here we have Emma Nolan. Emma, why don’t you show off your Dundies to the camera?”

“Oh, I can’t, because I keep them hidden,” Emma says. “I don’t wanna… look at them and get cocky.” She looks at the camera with a blank expression on her face.

“Oh! That’s a good idea,” Trent says.

Greg interjects. “Mine are at home in a display case above my bed.”

Emma snorts. “Of course they are.”

“TMI, Greg,” Trent says.

* * *

_“To Shelby Gonzales, it’s the Show Me the Money award, for best accountant!”_

The TV in the conference room plays last year’s Dundies. Alyssa sits at the table, diligently taking notes as she watches Trent hand out Shelby’s award.

“Trent has filmed every Dundies Awards,” she explains. “And now he’s making me look through hours of footage to find highlights.”

On the screen, something covers up the camera, and Alyssa hums knowingly.

“Oh, yeah. This is the part where Barry sat in front of the camera all night. It’s great.”

She turns her head, mouthing ‘oh my God’ and miming throttling something, and the camera follows her line of sight out into the bullpen to find Emma making a sympathetic face from her desk.

_“The Dundie Award for Longest Engagement goes to… Alyssa Greene! Alyssa, everybody! When is that girl gonna get married, am I right? Ah, Rachel’s accepting. Are there any words you’d like to say on Alyssa’s behalf?”_

_“Uh, we’ll see you next year!”_

Alyssa glances at the camera. She swallows heavily, looking down at her hands in embarassment. The camera once again finds Emma, who looks thoughtful, and a little sad herself.

* * *

“I’m not changing that. It’s the best one,” Trent insists, sat in the chair at the desk in his office.

Emma’s eyes dart to the side. “No, it’s hilarious, it’s just, um… World’s Longest Engagement? We’re all expecting it, you know?”

“That’s why it’s funny,” Trent says. “Every year that Rachel and Alyssa don’t get married it gets funnier.”

“Well, I think if you use the same jokes, it just comes across as lazy.” Emma shrugs.

Trent considers this. “Oh. Lazy. Huh…”

Emma bites her lip, looking down at her shoes.

* * *

Chili’s is packed, and dimly-lit, and the Scranton branch of Dunder Mifflin is set up in the middle of it all. Greg stands at a sound desk in the middle of the floor.

“Welcome to the eighth annual Dundies Awards,” he announces. “Before we get started, a few announcements. Keep your acceptance speeches short; I have wrap-it-up music and I am not afraid to use it. Barry.”

He looks pointedly at Barry, who rolls his eyes. Everyone chats, surrounded by friends and family and several strangers who have unfortunately picked tonight to go out to Chili’s for dinner. Alyssa sits with Rachel and a couple of the warehouse guys at a table. Emma is at the table next to them, alone.

Trent starts his introductory rap, hissing at Marcus to switch the cue cards faster as he gets behind the pace of the music. Shelby rubs her temples.

* * *

“The Dundies are kind of like a kid’s birthday party,” Shelby says, earlier that day in the conference room. “And you go, and there’s really nothing for you to do there. But the kid’s having a really good time, so you’re kind of… there. That’s kind of what it’s like.”

* * *

Eventually, a waitress unplugs the cord, and the loud rap music stops. Trent is unbothered, segueing into his speech.

“So we are here! Thank you all for coming to the Dundie Awards,” he says, unzipping his hoodie to reveal a cheap tux. “I am your host, Trent Oliver. And I just want to tell you please, please do not drink and drive.” He pauses. “Because you may hit a bump and spill the drink. Okay, let’s get this party started!”

Rachel scoffs and rolls her eyes. She turns to the other people at her table. “This is lame.”

“Let’s go to a bar,” Jules suggests.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Rachel says. She stands, picking up her jacket.

Alyssa’s eyes dart nervously between her fiancée and her friends. “Um…”

“Guys, where are you going?” Trent asks, looking crestfallen. “Alyssa, show’s just getting started.”

“Sorry,” Alyssa says quietly, slowly picking up her own jacket. She glances at Emma before she leaves. Trent stares for a moment before recovering, clearing his throat and bringing his microphone back to his face and continuing.

Marcus, having finished his cue card job, makes to walk past Emma. “You staying?”

“Yeah.” Emma looks down at the menu. “Gotta eat somewhere.”

Trent holds up the first Dundie. “The Busiest Beaver award goes to… Angie Dickinson!”

Angie gets up, high-fiving Emma on her way to accept the award. She takes the little statue from Trent, her eyebrows knitting together as she reads the inscription. She purses her lips.

“This says ‘Bushiest Beaver’.”

“What?” Trent gasps, leaning over her shoulder to read it. Emma gives the camera an amused look as Trent hisses, “I told them busiest—idiots.”

“It’s fine,” Angie snorts.

“We’ll fix it up,” Trent says as Angie goes back to her seat. “You don’t have to display that.”

Kevin, one of the accountants, giggles into his mojito.

* * *

The camera films Alyssa and Rachel from afar. The two of them are standing outside their car, mid-argument.

“Because that’s what happens every time!” Alyssa yells.

Rachel turns to her angrily. “He’s a jackass! Every year. Come on, we’re going to the bar.”

She reaches out, grabbing Alyssa’s arm, but Alyssa jerks it back out of her grip. She takes a step back, voice rising,

“No! I don’t wanna go!” she shouts. “I don’t want to!”

She begins to walk back towards the Chili’s, and Rachel groans. “Alyssa—”

“If you would’ve asked me that, then you would know,” Alyssa says, putting a hand up to stop Rachel in her tracks before turning and marching away.

Rachel glares after her.

* * *

Trent is about to start a rendition of Celine Dion’s ‘It’s All Coming Back to Me Now’ when Alyssa strides back into the Chili’s, walking straight over to Emma and sitting down in the empty seat next to her. Emma looks up from her plate of Chicken Crispers in surprise.

“Hey… how are you?” she asks. “I thought you left.”

“Um, no, I just—” Alyssa shrugs her jacket off. She’s a lot calmer now. “I decided to stay.”

“Oh.” Emma smiles.

“I’ll just get a ride home from Shelby or something,” Alyssa says. She grabs Emma’s beer and takes a gulp, and Emma lets her, looking at her with poorly-concealed adoration in her eyes. Alyssa turns her attention to Trent. “Oh, good, I’m just in time for Celine.”

Emma snorts. “Yeah. Lucky you.”

“Can I get a drink?” Alyssa asks a waiter.

* * *

“This next award goes to somebody who really lights up the office,” Trent says, a few drinks in. He’s not the only one. “Someone with the best hair. Seriously, I think we all want to run our hands through this person’s hair.”

Alyssa and Shelby exchange slightly nervous glances.

“The Hottest in the Office award goes to…” Trent pauses for dramatic effect. “Marcus the temp!”

Alyssa’s jaw drops, her expression gleeful. Marcus looks stunned, and a little perplexed. Slowly, he gets up and makes his way to the makeshift stage. Trent plays keep-away with the award for a few seconds before laughing and letting a visibly irritated Marcus take it.

* * *

“What am I going to do with the award?” Marcus stands in a corner of the Chili’s for his interview. He scoffs. “Nothing. I—I don’t know what I’m gonna do. That’s the least of my concerns right now.”

* * *

Alyssa laughs, past tipsy, and tries to use her straw to get the last of the alcohol from her cocktail. Emma grins at her, only a little concerned.

“I think those might be empty,” she says.

“No, cause the ice melts,” Alyssa says wisely. “And then it’s like… second drink.” She giggles again.

“Second drink?” Emma laughs with her. Her eyes are soft as she watches her, the two of them in their own little world.

Trent’s terrible rendition of ‘Tiny Dancer’ – which he has changed to ‘Tiny Dundie’ – is interrupted by a stranger standing at the bar portion of the restaurant.

“Sing it, Elton,” the man says mockingly.

“Thanks, man,” Trent says between lyrics. “Hey, where you guys from?”

Another man answers. “We just came from your mama’s house.”

Alyssa reaches across to Barry’s table, taking hold of his half-finished drink. “Are you gonna finish that?”

Barry shakes his head.

The men at the bar won’t stop. “Sing another song, dude.”

“Uh, you know what, guys?” Trent turns to face them. “We’re just having a little office party, so if you wanna—” He dodges a balled-up wad of damp napkins thrown at him. “Hey! Cool it, guys, really.”

“You suck, man,” the first man sneers, throwing another wad.

Trent’s face falls. He lowers the mic. Now everybody’s eyes are on him, even Emma and Alyssa’s. The song carries on in the background as Trent visibly gives up, defeated. “Cut the music.”

Greg stops the song. An awkward silence descends over the room

“I had a few more Dundies to give out tonight,” Trent says, his voice small. “But I’m just gonna cut it short and wrap it up so everybody can enjoy their food. Um, thanks for listening, those of you who listened. This last Dundie is for Sheldon. This is the Don’t Go In There After Me award.”

Sheldon lifts his head from his plate of food.

“It’s for the time that I went into the bathroom after him,” Trent explains in a lifeless voice, “and it was really, really smelly.”

He puts the mic down and walks across the floor to hand the award to Sheldon. Alyssa starts clapping.

“Yay, Sheldon!” She tries to rouse everyone else into applause, too. Emma is the first to join her, followed one by one by the others. “Yay, Sheldon, for stinking up the bathroom!”

Alyssa drunkenly turns and pouts at Trent.

“Hey, I haven’t gotten one yet.”

“Yes, I have not gotten one either,” Emma adds. Alyssa gives her a grateful look.

“More Dundies!” Alyssa insists. She starts a chant. “Dundie, Dundie…”

Everyone slowly joins in. A small smile spreads across Trent’s face.

“Alright, alright, okay,” he relents, grinning a little to himself. “This is the Fine Work award. It goes to Barry, for all the fine work he did this year.”

Barry rolls his eyes good-naturedly, getting up from his seat and making his way onstage to accept the award.

“Speech!” Alyssa yells, swaying a little where she sits.

Barry takes the plastic statue from Trent. “Well, last year I got Great Work,” he says. “So I don’t know what to think about this award. But at least I didn’t get Smelliest Bowel Movement like Sheldon.”

Alyssa laughs loudly, her nose scrunching and her cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

Trent picks up another statue. “This next award is going out to our own little Alyssa Greene. I think we all know what award Alyssa is gonna be getting this year.”

Alyssa stops laughing. Emma looks at Trent worriedly, but Trent just grins as he continues.

“It is the Whitest Sneakers award! Because she always has the whitest tennis shoes on!”

Alyssa’s expression melts into one of glee and excitement. She practically launches herself out of her seat to accept the award and snatches the mic from Trent as she turns to face her co-workers. Emma whoops for her.

“I have so many people to thank for this award,” Alyssa gasps delightedly. Emma laughs softly, looking in awe of how happy she is. “Okay, first off, my Keds, because I couldn’t have done this without them.” The camera pans down to Alyssa’s sparkling white shoes. “Let’s give Trent a round of applause for emceeing tonight, because this is a lot harder than it looks.”

Everyone claps, and Trent blinks back sudden tears.

“And it’s also harder because of Greg, too,” Alyssa adds. Emma snorts, and Greg looks offended. “Finally, I wanna thank God because God gave me this Dundie,” Alyssa says, turning slightly more serious as she looks around the room with wide eyes. “And I feel God in this Chili’s tonight.”

Emma bites her lip, shaking her head to herself as Alyssa whoops and hugs Trent. She stands, ready to help Alyssa back into her chair. She clearly doesn’t expect Alyssa to throw her arms around her shoulders and hug her tightly, too. Alyssa pulls back, arms still around Emma’s neck, and presses a light, quick kiss to Emma’s lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world, before letting go and flopping down into the chair.

Emma stands, shell-shocked, before clearing her throat and sitting down, too. Her cheeks are red, and she looks like she doesn’t know how to feel about what just happened – or, indeed – if it had just happened. She fidgets for a moment, before resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped on the table.

* * *

“What a great year for the Dundies,” Emma says, sat at the bar of the Chili’s with Alyssa sat next to her, gazing at her with a slightly open mouth. “We got to hear Trent’s Celine impersonation, and we learned of his true feelings for Marcus, which was touching.”

She looks at Alyssa, who nods. Her eyes are fixed on Emma’s face.

“And we heard Trent change the lyrics to a number of classic songs,” Emma continues. “Which, for me, has ruined them for life.” She pops a mini pretzel into her mouth, eyes drifting to where Alyssa is still staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” Alyssa says quietly. “What?”

“I don’t know.” Emma laughs a little, playful. “What?”

Alyssa laughs, too, leaning back in her seat. She overbalances and, with a sharp gasp, she falls backwards onto the floor. Emma’s jaw drops and she hops off her bar stool. “Oh my God. You are so _drunk_.” She turns to the camera. “Did you get that?”

From out of frame, Alyssa cackles.

* * *

“Please tell me that you got—” Emma shakes her head.

“Woman has had a seizure!” Greg yells, hopping a booth and heading in Emma and Alyssa’s direction. “It’s okay, I’m a sheriff’s deputy.”

“Well, he’s a volunteer,” Emma says.

Greg gives her a withering look. “Don’t get into that now. We need something to cushion her head.”

Alyssa, unhurt, keeps giggling to herself drunkenly on the ground. She pushes Greg away when he tries to take off his shirt to put under her head. A waiter comes over, looking completely fed up.

“Sir, you’re gonna have to put your clothes on,” he tells Greg. “People are trying to eat.”

Greg’s head is stuck in his shirt.

* * *

“Was this year’s Dundies a success? Well, let me see,” Trent says. Behind him, Marcus and Greg are packing up props. “I made Alyssa laugh so hard that she fell out of her chair. She almost broke her neck, so I killed. Almost.”

He starts snickering, glancing behind him at the two guys. Marcus keeps on packing up, but Greg offers a tiny smile.

* * *

Emma and Alyssa are walking out of the restaurant when Alyssa spots the camera. She rushes up to it, her award clutched in her hand. “Oh my God! I just wanna say, this was the best. Dundies. Ever!” She whoops, her face close to the lens.

Emma gently pulls her back, away from the road. “Whoa, whoa. Careful.”

Alyssa giggles, leaning back into her slightly.

* * *

“We have a strict policy here not to over serve,” the waiter tells the camera. “Apparently, this young woman was sneaking drinks off of other people’s tables.”

The camera shows a montage of a drunken Alyssa hugging everyone goodbye.

“I scanned her driver’s license,” the waiter says. “And she is not welcome at this restaurant chain ever again.”

* * *

Emma and Alyssa stand on the side of the street. Alyssa looks tired, blinking sleepily as Emma keeps her eyes firmly on the car that’s approaching them. “Oh, here she is. Careful.”

Alyssa almost stumbles as she steps down off the sidewalk, giggling. “I’m fine.”

“Still, just take it easy,” Emma says. “You’re almost there.”

“Hey, um, can I ask you a question?” Alyssa asks, as they walk around the front of Shelby’s car. She’s sobered up a little, brushing loose curls of hair out of her eyes as she and Emma both stop.

“Shoot.”

Alyssa stares at her, eyes flickering between Emma’s own. Emma looks back, her breath hitching, and Alyssa blinks suddenly, looking at the camera like she’s just remembered it’s there. “Um… I just wanted to say thanks.”

“That’s not really a question.” Emma smiles indulgently as Alyssa brushes past her, and opens the passenger side door of the car for her. “Okay, uh, let’s get you home.”

Alyssa bites her lip, looking at Emma one last time before climbing into the car. “Bye.”

“Have a good night,” Emma says. She cranes her head. “Thank you, Shelby.”

The car drives away. The camera lingers on Emma, Elton John’s ‘Tiny Dancer’ playing over the footage. Emma watches the car go, a longing look on her face, before she turns and walks away.


	4. email surveillance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is based off of episode 2x09! i just thought the main plot would be great for greenelan and the subplot would be a fun one for trent!

“Yeah, I tried to install it myself,” Trent says casually to the IT guy sitting at the computer in his office. “But, uh, you guys have these things so password-protected.”

“Bro, that just means you have to enter your password,” the IT guy says. “What’s your password, Trent?”

Trent nods to a post-it note on the edge of his computer monitor. “It’s…”

“1, 2, 3, 4,” the IT guy says with a heavy sigh. He grabs the post-it note and sends a quick look of disbelief to the camera before typing the password into Trent’s computer.

Outside Trent’s office, Greg lingers by the door. Trent almost yells when he opens the door to find himself face to face with Greg.

“God! Please don’t do that,” Trent says, clutching his heart.

“Okay, sorry,” Greg says quickly. “What is going on in there? Why is he here? What are you doing?”

“I can’t tell you,” Trent says.

“You _have_ to tell me—”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Trent scoffs.

“Look, Trent, I know you don’t want to have to think about this, but if something were to happen to you, God forbid,” Greg says lowly, and Trent looks blankly over his shoulder and straight down the lens of the camera, “then I would need to know in order to take over.”

“Greg, nothing is gonna happen to me,” Trent says. “I am in the best shape of my life, okay?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t matter.” Greg tries again. “You could get a brain aneurysm. Or hit by a car. Or a bus, or a train. You could get poisoned. Fall down a well. Step on a mine. Choke.”

Emma, sat at her desk with her back to Trent and Greg, shakes her head in amazement.

Trent almost laughs. “Okay, if I step on a mine in Scranton, Pennsylvania and die, you can have my job. Okay? Why don’t you just go away?” He brushes past Greg.

* * *

“There are certain things a boss does not share with their employees,” Trent says, his expression serious. “Their salary. That would depress them. Their bed.” He pauses. “And I am not going to tell them that I’ll be reading their emails.”

He shrugs.

* * *

“Hey, what’s the deal, Trent?” Shelby asks. “Why are you spying on our computers?”

Trent laughs unconvincingly. “Oh, no, everybody. Shelby’s… gone crazy.”

“We just got a memo from IT,” Shelby says, folding her arms over her chest. “It said you’re doing email surveillance.”

“Oh, what?” Trent drops the pretense. He mutters to himself. “No, that defeats the whole purpose.”

“So it’s true? You have access to our emails?” Shelby asks.

“You know what the problem is?” Trent raises his hands defensively.

Barry hums. “I think I do.” Trent ignores him.

“The problem is that when people hear the term ‘Big Brother’ they immediately think it’s scary or bad,” he says. “But I don’t. I think… ‘wow, I love my Big Brother’.”

* * *

Kevin sits in the conference room, looking guilty. “I gotta erase a lot of stuff. A _lot_ of stuff.”

* * *

“Oh, hey,” Shelby says, coming to a halt where Kaylee’s looking over a stack of paper. “Just so you know, if you have any sensitive emails, they need to be deleted immediately.”

“I know,” Kaylee says.

Shelby nods once. “Good.”

The camera pans to Alyssa, who’s sat at her desk as she eavesdrops. Her brow is furrowed in thought. She purses her lips for a second before grabbing Emma’s attention and waving her over. Emma leans her forearms on Alyssa’s high receptionist desk, an easy smile on her face – although her eyes drop to Alyssa’s lips for the briefest of moments.

“Something just happened,” Alyssa whispers. “Shelby just told Kaylee that she has to delete all of her sensitive emails _immediately_.”

A look of glee passes over Emma’s face. “What?”

“I know,” Alyssa says. She pauses. “Do you think that they’re, like—”

“No.” Emma shakes her head. “No, they can’t be…”

“Right, no,” Alyssa says, biting her lip. She considers it for a moment. “Maybe.”

* * *

“If you guys see anything,” Alyssa says, nodding past the camera. “I have to know.”

* * *

“Ooh, Angie has an E-vite,” Trent says, searching his employees’ emails on the computer in his office. She clicks on it. “From… Emma. ‘Barbecue at Emma’s tonight’. Tonight. Hm. Wonder where my e-vitation is.” He laughs at his own joke. “Click on guest list, let’s see. Alyssa, Kaylee, Shelby, Greg, Barry, Kevin, Angie, Sheldon. Man, Sheldon’s going? Mine must be… No.”

* * *

Kaylee’s standing at one of the vending machines in the break room, getting a Baby Ruth bar, when Alyssa sidles casually up to her. “Hey, Kaylee. How’s it going?”

“It’s okay,” Kaylee says with a shrug.

“Listen, are you bringing anyone to Emma’s party tonight?” Alyssa asks, her voice light.

Kaylee frowns. “No. Are we supposed to?”

“No. I mean I don’t know, I don’t think so,” Alyssa says quickly. She goes to put her dollar in the machine, but Kaylee stops her.

“Excuse me.” She puts some quarters in the slot, and Alyssa watches as another Baby Ruth bar falls free.

She slowly looks at the camera, eyebrows in her hairline, and holds up two fingers excitedly as Kaylee bends to retrieve the extra candy bar.

* * *

Trent walks into the kitchen at lunch with a Cup of Noodles. Alyssa, Emma, Kevin and Shelby are sat at the circular table in the corner, talking amongst themselves, but the chatter dies down awkwardly when Trent takes the fifth seat and grins at them.

“Are you gonna eat with us?” Kevin asks, confused.

“Of course,” Trent says. “Hanging with my crew. Crew that I am one of. Hangin’ with my Cup of Noodles.” He looks around at them, stirring the pot with his fork. “This is a meal in a cup right here. Hot, tasty, reminds me of college. You know what I really miss about college? The parties.”

Emma and Alyssa exchange a look.

“Yeah, everybody would go,” Trent continues. “The athletes. The nerds. The professors.”

Alyssa wrinkles her nose. “The professors would go to the parties?”

“Yeah, they were the most fun,” Trent insists. “We always invited them.”

He looks at Emma, who looks at the camera.

* * *

“It’s true. I’m having a party,” Emma says. “I’ve got three cases of imported beer. Karaoke. And I did not invite Trent.”

She shrugs apologetically.

“So… three ingredients for a great party. And it’s nothing personal. I just think that if he were there, people wouldn’t be able to relax, you know? Have fun.”

* * *

The camera is shaky as it approaches Alyssa’s desk with speed. Alyssa looks up from her paperwork with a little crease between her eyebrows.

“What?”

The camera pans quickly over to Shelby, who’s just about visible, eating a Baby Ruth bar. It pans back to Alyssa, whose jaw drops. A smile spreads across her face, and she turns to the camera, overjoyed.

“Oh, yes! Thank you!” she whispers.

* * *

“Question.” Greg rolls his chair back until he’s next to Emma. “Google maps says there’s several different options to get to your house for the party tonight—”

“Greg, keep it down,” Emma hisses, eyes wide. “And you’ve been to my place before.”

“Why?”

“Because not everybody knows about the party,” Emma says quietly.

Greg leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Like who? Who doesn’t know?”

“Trent,” Emma says, inclining her head to Trent, who’s just walked back into his office.

Greg’s mouth falls open in surprise. “Why just Trent?”

“Cause… it’s a surprise,” Emma lies, clearly worried that Greg is going to snitch.

“Is it?” Greg breathes. “Oh, that’s perfect.”

Emma nods. “So don’t tell.”

“I won’t,” Greg says immediately.

* * *

“So, Greg thinks that tonight is a surprise party for Trent,” Emma tells Alyssa in a low voice.

“Really? That’s great,” Alyssa says.

“I know.”

Alyssa’s eyes light up. “Maybe we can get him to hide and wait somewhere!”

“Oh, man,” Emma laughs, grinning down at her. “Oh, you know what? Speaking of the party, um, I was just trying to get a handle on numbers. For food and stuff. Do you think Rachel’s gonna come, or—”

“Oh. No, She can’t make it,” Alyssa says.

“Oh, okay,” Emma says casually, shrugging one shoulder as she pushes back off the desk. “Cool.”

She walks back to her own desk, glancing at the camera with a little smile playing across her lips. She’s intercepted by Trent.

“Hey,” he says.

Emma clears her throat. “Hey.”

“Almost quittin’ time,” Trent remarks, hands in his pockets.

“Yeah. It’s four o’clock,” Emma says.

“One more hour. To take care of anything you forgot to do.”

Emma sits at her computer, sucking in a breath as she starts to type. She keeps her eyes firmly on the screen, even as Trent speaks again.

“Hey, I don’t know if you have any plans tonight, but if you don’t, we could hang out,” he says.

“Oh,” Emma says, leaning back in her chair and finally looking up at Trent with an apologetic expression. “I… can’t.”

“You have plans?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Yeah, I do too,” Trent says.

Emma’s eyebrows lift. “Oh, you do?”

“Big plans,” Trent nods to himself. “I do, yeah.”

“Because you just said you wanted to hang out—”

“I can’t do it tonight.” Trent shakes his head this time. “No. Improv class. I have an improv class.”

“Really? Oh, that sounds like a lot of fun,” Emma says.

“Oh, it’s the best,” Trent says. “The best. I would not miss it for the world.” He pauses. “But if something else came up, I would definitely not go.”

There’s a long silence, one that Emma eventually breaks. “Improv sounds great.”

“It is.” Trent heaves out a sigh. “Okay.”

He turns to walk back to his office. Somebody coughs from off-camera, and he turns back, quick as a flash.

“What?”

“I, uh, think Barry just coughed,” Emma says.

Trent nods, and walks into his office.

* * *

“Hey, Alyssa,” Trent says, catching her on her way out at the end of the day. “Do you need me to walk you to your vehicular transport?”

Alyssa gives him a slightly confused look. “No, thanks.”

“Alright,” Trent says, letting her go past him. Shelby is next, talking to someone on her phone and not looking too pleased about it. “Shelby! Got big plans tonight?”

“I’m on a call,” Shelby hisses, covering the mic on her phone for long enough to glare at Trent before continuing.

Trent grimaces, but his expression clears when he spots Kevin. “Hey, big man. What are you doing tonight? Where are you off to?”

Kevin’s eyes widen. “Um. My sister is in town and we are going to see the Alaska Film Festival.”

“Okay,” Trent says as Kevin dashes past him and out the door. He groans quietly to himself, stopping Kaylee a little desperately. “Hey, Kaylee. Where are you rushing off to?”

“I’m just leaving for the day,” Kaylee says quickly.

Trent snorts. “Duh. Where you headed, though?”

“Charity bake drive.”

“Liar!” Trent points an accusing finger at her. “You are a liar!”

“No, I’m not!” Kaylee’s voice is defensive, and she brushes past Trent without another word.

Finally, Trent rounds on Greg, who’s the only person left. Greg freezes like a deer in the headlights as Trent smiles jovially at him. “Greg, my loyal _compadre_. You and I are hanging tonight; the two of us. Why don’t you show me that TV show you’ve been wanting to? That stupid ‘Battleship Galaxy’ thing?”

“’Battlestar Galactica’?”

“Yes, that!” Trent points at him. “Let’s do it!”

“I can’t tonight.” Greg’s eyes dart to the side, and then he appears to land on an excuse. “I have to go to practice. Soccer practice.”

Trent’s brow furrows. “I didn’t know you played soccer.”

“Uh… I meant clarinet,” Greg says.

“You too, Greg?” Trent’s voice is flat. “You too?”

Greg bites his lip to hide a giggle. “Have fun tonight, whatever it is that you’re doing. I’ll see you on Monday.” He hurries past, grinning at the camera as he goes and whispering, “He has no idea.”

* * *

The party at Emma’s place is quiet and relaxed. People chat animatedly with each other as they get settled in. Music plays from the speakers, underscoring conversation. Emma stands in the middle of it all, dressed in a casual flannel and jeans.

“Quick announcement, everybody,” she says, getting everyone’s attention. “We do have wine in the kitchen and there is beer available on the porch. And despite what you might think, it’s not all for Angie and Kaylee. So, please enjoy.”

Greg pushes his way through the crowd towards her. “Emma! I’ve told you a million times, a hide-a-key rock is a terrible idea.”

“Hey, Greg,” a woman says. “Good to see you again, still the same lovable weirdo.”

“Jess.” Greg nods at her once before turning back to Emma. “Why is she here?”

Emma just looks at him. “Because she’s one of my roommates?”

“I love your Birkenstocks,” Jess offers. This makes Greg smile a little.

“Yeah, I always keep an extra set in the car for special occasions.” He pulls Emma aside. “When’s the guest of honor coming?”

“Oh, uh…” Emma chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “Later-ish.”

“He’s gonna love it.”

“Yeah, um,” Emma excuses herself, looking a little guilty as she makes her way over to a small group of her co-workers. “Just wanna let you guys know that we will be taking the tour like I promised.”

“Hey.” Alyssa walks in from the hall, having clearly just arrived. Emma’s eyes light up as soon as she sees her.

“Hey! Just in time,” she says, jerking her thumb to the group. “Do you wanna go on the group tour? We were just about to leave.”

Alyssa grins. “Definitely.”

“Well in that case…” Emma fiddles with the hem of her flannel. “The group tour is now leaving.”

Alyssa joins the small cluster, slotting in just behind Emma as they all set off. Emma clears her throat, taking a deep breath before she launches into her best tour guide spiel.

“Ladies and gentlemen, just a few things that we’re going to be pointing out to you today. You will be able to see all three bedrooms and, if we’re lucky, maybe you’ll get a chance to peek into the bathroom. Who knows?” Emma turns around and flashes a grin at the group. “I have to remind you that flash photography is prohibited and, as much as you can, please refrain from touching things. I know you might want to.”

Alyssa snorts, shaking her head slightly as she follows Emma up the stairs.

* * *

There’s a half circle of chairs set up in the Community Center. Trent sits in one, surrounded by about ten others. In front of them is their improv teacher, Nate. He claps his hands together once, making sure everyone is ready to begin.

“Okay, let’s get right into it. I need two people for the first scene.”

Everyone raises their hands to volunteer. Trent puts both hands up eagerly. “Mr. Kotter! Mr. Kotter!”

Nate sighs. “Okay. Trent and…”

But everyone else has put their hands down. Nate looks at one of the women there hopefully.

“How about Ashley? Okay.” He breathes a sigh of relief when Ashley nods. “Ashley, can you start us off?”

“Alright,” Ashley says. She and Trent stand in front of the others. She clears her throat, taking a moment to think of something before she starts the scene.

Immediately, Trent mimes holding a gun. He kicks down an imaginary door. “Detective Trent Olivo! I’m with the FBI!”

He shoots Ashley, who rolls her eyes, and slowly lowers herself so she’s lying on the ground.

* * *

“Think about this,” Trent says, being interviewed in the hallway of the Community Center. “What is the most common and dramatic thing that can happen on TV or in movies or just in America? Someone has a gun.”

He makes a smug face.

“That’s why I always start with a gun. You just can’t top it.”

* * *

Ashley is trying again. She pushes her stomach out, resting a hand on it and walking into the scene as if she’s heavily pregnant.

“I’m supposed to meet my doctor here,” she says. “Have you seen him?”

“Boom! Freeze!” Trent mimes kicking down another door. “Trent Ossington, FBI! You know what you did.” He fires the finger gun, and Ashley ‘dies’ again. “Thought you could get away with it, huh? Well, you didn’t, because I know where you hid the diamonds. Boom! Boom!”

He starts firing on the audience.

“We’re not even in the scene!”

“Okay, Trent…” Nate interrupts the scene. “You can’t just shoot everybody. What about the scene Ashley set up?”

“It was boring,” Trent says.

“No, it wasn’t,” Ashley protests.

Nate sighs heavily. “No more guns.”

“But—”

“No. Give me all the guns you have.”

Trent glowers, then slowly reaches into his pockets and hands over at least seven imaginary weapons.

* * *

Alyssa is slowly wandering around a room by herself. There’s a bed with blue sheets, a small desk, a guitar in the corner, clothes thrown haphazardly into a closet. Alyssa’s hands are linked behind her back as she walks steadily around, taking everything in. She stops by the bookcase, running her finger along the spines of the ‘Harry Potter’ books, which are out of order. She glances up at the camera, shrugging one shoulder.

“Emma’s bedroom.”

“Hey, I—” Emma freezes as she walks in, her eyes finding the camera for a split-second before she runs a hand through her hair and swallows. “See, I knew we lost somebody on the tour.”

“Sorry,” Alyssa says.

Emma shakes her head. “It’s cool.”

There’s silence for a moment as they look at each other, and then Alyssa suddenly clears her throat and walks towards the desk.

“So, uh, this is your desk?”

“This is my desk,” Emma confirms.

Alyssa nods thoughtfully. “Your home office?”

“Home office,” Emma repeats. “Uh…”

“Well. You have to sit down, so I can get the full effect,” Alyssa says.

Emma swallows again, sitting down in her desk chair and not looking at where Alyssa is now standing behind her. Alyssa watches the back of her head for a moment, before looking around the room in thought.

“Okay, wait,” she says, making her way around to the other side of the bed. She stands facing Emma’s side, putting her hands out in front of her as if at a computer. “So that would make me, like, right here.”

Emma looks over at her with a slight grin. “Yeah, yeah, that feels about right.”

“And…” Alyssa looks to Emma’s other side. “Greg would be, like—”

“You know what?” Emma coughs a little. “Let’s just leave that image out of it, because this is a happy place.”

Alyssa laughs, rolling her eyes, and Emma adopts a faux-serious voice.

“Happy thoughts, Alyssa. Happy thoughts.”

Suddenly, Alyssa gasps as her attention is pulled to the bookcase again. “Yearbook!”

“Yeah, you don’t have to…” Emma trails off, and stands, her cheeks flushing as Alyssa grabs the book. “Alright. Yeah, that’s not going to be awkward at all.”

Alyssa opens the yearbook, flipping through until she finds Emma. Her eyes soften even as she laughs again. “Oh no.”

“Oh yeah.”

“You were so dorky,” Alyssa says softly.

Emma snorts. “Thank you.”

She shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans, looking wholly unsure of what it is that she should be doing or saying. So she just watches Alyssa as she turns the pages of the yearbook with interest, an impossibly gentle smile tugging at her lips.

* * *

Ashley slowly raises her hands. Trent leans back from where he’d just been speaking into her ear, and Nate sighs.

“Trent? What did you tell her?”

“Nothing,” Trent says immediately.

“Then why are her hands up?” Nate presses. “Ashley?”

“He told me he couldn’t show it to me, but he has a gun,” Ashley says.

Nate runs his hands over his face. “Okay, let’s call it a day.”

* * *

“Hey, Angie,” Alyssa says, back downstairs and a couple hours into the barbecue. “Come here for a second?”

“Sure,” Angie says, taking another sip of wine and joining Alyssa in the corner.

Alyssa looks around to make sure they’re not being overheard. “Have you… heard anything about secret office romances?”

“You tell me.” Angie’s grin is sly. Alyssa’s brow furrows in utter confusion, and Angie scoffs good-naturedly. “You do mean you and Emma, right?”

Alyssa’s eyes widen, fear and shock swirling in their depths. Her mouth falls open slightly and she takes a jerky step back. Angie seems to realize her mistake immediately.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” she says. “I mean, I thought, you guys hang out all the time, and you’re _talking_ all the time, and… I’m sorry, kid.”

“No, it’s—” Alyssa’s eyes dart around the room nervously. She fidgets with the can of beer in her hand, shaking her head rapidly. “It’s okay.”

* * *

“As much as I would love to stay and hang out with you all,” Trent says, once improv class is over, “I actually have plans. Big office party I need to go to.”

Ashley rolls her eyes, knocking their shoulders together as she heads for the door. “Good job today.”

“Yeah, you too,” Trent says, craning his head to make sure she’s gone before turning back to the camera. “Not.”

* * *

“Oh, hey,” Emma says, almost bumping into Alyssa in the kitchen. “How’s your little side project going, by the way?”

“Side…” Realization passes across Alyssa’s troubled features. “Kaylee and Shelby? I gave that up.”

“Why?”

Alyssa shrugs, her eyes on the floor. “Turns out I was just grasping at straws.”

* * *

“Just because two people are hanging out, it doesn’t mean that they’re together,” Alyssa says, slightly panicked as she stands outside Emma’s front door in front of the camera. “You know, like, people can just be friends. And I think that it was really unfair of us to assume that there was anything else going on.”

She shifts on the spot, nodding her head jerkily as she glances away from the camera.

* * *

Trent walks into Emma’s house, and the room goes silent.

“Surprise!” Greg yells. He looks around at everyone else in confusion. “Everybody!”

“Wow, who opened the morgue for this thing?” Trent snorts. He shrugs casually. “I was just driving by, thought I’d drop in. Hello, temp, take my jacket.” He takes his jacket off and flings it into Marcus’ face where he sits with Barry, and Emma’s roommate Jess. “Ooh, karaoke! I am a karaoke fiend.”

He strides up to the TV, taking the mic off the coffee table and selecting a song. Everyone looks at each other in confusion, the awkward silence still permeating the air. ‘Islands in the Stream’ starts playing. Trent glances around for volunteers.

“I need somebody else. Alyssa, you wanna come up and sing this one?” he asks, offering Alyssa the mic. Alyssa, sat next to a guilty-looking Emma on the couch, shakes her head.

Trent starts singing the male part, raising his eyebrows in turn to each person in the room, but nobody gets up. Trent sighs quietly, and then adopts a high-pitched singing voice for the female part.

Eventually, Emma shakes her head to herself, and pushes off the couch. She walks up to Trent, leaning into the mic and taking over the lower harmony while Trent continues to squeak his way through the higher harmony. Emma meets Alyssa’s eyes, shrugging helplessly. Alyssa smiles back at her with a soft expression on her face. She stops when Angie winks at her.

The camera zooms through the windows out into the back yard, where Kaylee and Shelby, almost hidden by shadows, are making out against a tree.

* * *

It’s earlier, at Trent’s improv class, and the camera shows Ashley face down on the floor while Trent points an imaginary gun at her from where he stands.

“Talk!” he says. “Talk!”

“I am—”

“Shut up!”

* * *

“Funny story, the way I got into improv,” Trent says, holding a single finger up as he prepares to dramatically recount the tale. “I got into improv because—The story about me getting into improv was that I was… walking down the street, and a race car pulls up. And the guy driving the race car says, ‘Hey, you’re funny. You’re the funniest guy I’ve ever seen, or my name isn’t Dale Earnhardt.’”

He snorts with laughter.

“And _that_ was an improv!” He scratches the back of his head. “Um, the real way was that I found a flyer.”


	5. christmas party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! this chapter is based off of episode 2x10! it's christmassy!
> 
> mo is the motel clerk in the show - he's standing in for creed

“Come on, Greg. Put your back into it!” Trent orders, attempting to drag an enormous Christmas tree into the office from around the corner.

Alyssa gapes from her desk, watching as the two men’s attempt fails. Trent is straining to get the tree through the door, evidently deciding that he can’t, because his shoulders suddenly drop, and he turns around to face an out-of-frame Greg.

“No, turn it around! You’re breaking—”

“Really shove it—”

“You shove it.”

They retreat, only to emerge again a minute later with Greg carrying the base of the tree into the office first. His face is red and sweaty, and he’s puffing for breath. It seems like he’s been doing the majority of the heavy lifting.

“Don’t break the branches, Greg,” Trent warns, as Greg finally manages to get the widest part of the tree through the door.

Greg hisses. “I got a splinter.”

“Well, suck it up, we all have problems.” Trent tells him as they carry the tree through the bullpen. “Hey, everybody. Look what we have!”

Everyone looks at the tree in disbelief. Trent and Greg get the tree on its side in position, ready to be pushed upright. Emma crosses one leg over the other, resting her elbow on her knee and setting her chin in her open palm as she watches in anticipation. Her eyes dart to the camera, a gleeful look in them that suggests she’s just waiting for this to go wrong.

“I’ve got it leveraged,” Greg pants. “On three.”

They count together. “One, two, three!”

Greg and Trent push the tree upright, and a couple of gasps go around the office when the top of the tree breaks through the ceiling tiles on its way up. Emma snorts, smiling to herself as if this was exactly what she’d expected to happen.

Trent pulls a face as he looks at the tree, before looking around at his employees and grinning. “Merry Christmas!”

* * *

“Did it work?” Trent asks.

Kevin looks at the sawn-off top of the tree in his hand. “Well, sort of. Why did you get it so big?”

Trent snorts. “That’s what she said. No, I wanted it to be impressive. The biggest day of the year deserves the biggest tree of the year.”

“But what are we gonna do with this hacked-off part?” Kevin asks.

“Well, that is a perfectly good mini-tree, Kevin,” Trent says. He looks at the camera thoughtfully, hands on his hips. “And we are going to sell that to charity. That’s what Christmas is all about.”

The camera pans over to where Kevin is holding the mini-tree out in front of him. He gives the camera a dopey grin.

* * *

“So, this year, for the first time ever… I got Alyssa for Secret Santa,” Emma says, sat at a table in the break room with a box and some wrapping paper on the table in front of her. “And I got her this teapot, which I know she really wants so she can make tea at her desk.”

She carefully pulls a green teapot out of the box, showing it proudly to the camera before setting it back down.

“But, I’m also gonna stuff it with some inside jokes.” She puts an old cassette tape into the teapot with a grin, before picking up a little photo printed on card. “Like, this is my high school yearbook photo. She saw it at the party, and it really makes her laugh. Not sure why.”

Emma puts the photo inside the teapot, too, and holds up a sauce packet with a grin.

“Ooh, this is a hot sauce packet. She put this on a hot dog a couple years ago because she thought it was ketchup. And it was really funny so, uh, I kept the other two. Um… oh, this is a peanut, because she apparently managed to blow up some peanut brittle back in high school and I’m the only one here she’s told. I still want to know how she managed to do that.”

She holds up a little pencil.

“This would take a little too long to explain, so I won’t.” Emma puts the little trinkets into the teapot before holding up an envelope. “And this is a card. Because Christmas is the time to… tell people how you feel.”

She slots the card next to the teapot, smiling at the camera a little nervously as she closes the box.

* * *

“Is there anything we’re missing?” Kaylee sits with Angie, Alyssa, and a reluctant-looking Marcus in the conference room. The party planning committee meeting is in full swing, and Kaylee is clearly enjoying being in charge. “Angie, you got the lights?”

“Yeah, I got those cute little ones.” Angie grins. Kaylee raises her eyebrows, unimpressed, and Angie frowns. “Should I have gotten the big ones?”

“I guess we’ll see,” Kaylee says breezily, making Angie roll her eyes.

“Merry Christmas!” Trent jumps into the room, wearing a Santa hat and beard. “How’s everything going? How many plates are we getting?”

“Fifty,” Kaylee says.

“Ooh, double it. Double everything.” Trent pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and tosses it down on the table. “Double ice cream, double napkins… double it. On me.”

“Okay, but we still can’t serve liquor at the party,” Alyssa says.

Trent rolls his eyes. “I know. Stupid corporate wet blankets.”

* * *

“It was a tough year,” Trent says. “I had to fire somebody this year. You know… what’s-his-name. Anyway, this party has to really rock.”

Trent’s office is decked out in Christmas decorations, and he sits at his desk in the middle of it all. He holds up a check.

“Look at this. Christmas Bonus. Three thousand dollars.” He looks at the camera, wide-eyed with glee. “I got this for helping save the company money. So I guess some good came out of firing what’s-his-name after all. Maybe I should call him. Tell him that.”

* * *

“Okay, everyone, listen up!” Greg says, getting everyone’s attention.

“What are you wearing?” Emma snorts.

Greg looks at her like she’s an idiot. “Elf hat and ears, duh. Anyway, it’s time to get your presents, wrap them, and place them under the tree like so.” He demonstrates with his own wrapped gift. “If you do not get your present wrapped and under the tree within the next five minutes, you will be disqualified from Secret Santa. No exceptions, alright? Except for Trent.”

He points to Trent’s office, where he’s struggling to wrap a small box.

* * *

“I got Barry,” Sheldon says. “He’s into these posters of dogs as Broadway shows, so… I got him one of those.”

The camera cuts to Sheldon holding up a giant poster of dogs dressed up as characters from Phantom of the Opera. He looks, slightly uncomfortable, at the camera, and then the picture cuts back to him sitting at his desk in HR.

“Felt kind of weird buying that.”

* * *

“I got Mo.” Shelby sits in the conference room, looking thoroughly bemused. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know anything about Mo. I know his name’s Mo. I know he works over there.”

She nods in the direction of his desk. He sits there, leaning back in his chair, fast asleep. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

“I think he’s Irish, and I…” Shelby holds up her gift. “I got him this shamrock keychain.”

* * *

“I got myself for Secret Santa,” Kevin says. “I was supposed to tell somebody, but I didn’t.”

* * *

“You get something good this year?” Trent asks Emma, strolling over to her desk in his Santa hat.

“Uh, I think I did a pretty good job,” Emma says, looking a little confused when Trent perches himself on the corner of the desk.

“Yeah? Who’d you have?”

Emma leans back in her chair, turning it slightly so her back is to Alyssa. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”

“I think I got something pretty nice for my guy.” Trent crosses his arms over his chest. “Spent a lot of dough. A _lot_ of dough.”

“Well, there’s a twenty dollar limit, right?” Emma frowns.

“I wanted this party to be really special, so I sort of went above and beyond,” Trent admits.

“That’s great,” Emma says. “Just don’t tell me who it is—”

“It was Marcus.”

Emma looks at the camera, her mouth a thin line as Trent carries on.

“Yep… I have Marcus.”

* * *

“Gather round,” Greg instructs.

There are twelve chairs set up in a circle by the Christmas tree. The presents are all under the tree, too, and everyone eagerly makes their way over to grab a seat and wait for Secret Santa. Barry goes to plug the cord for the tree lights in, but Greg stops him.

“I’m gonna handle the cord, okay? Safety reasons.”

Barry rolls his eyes. “I know how to plug something in.”

“I wanna do it,” Greg whines, snatching the cord from his hand.

“Let’s count it down like Rockerfeller Center,” Trent says excitedly. “Ready?”

“Three,” everyone says. With every count, more of the office lights go out until the room is dark. “Two, one…”

The tree lights up, the small twinkle lights not adding much to the image. The cheering and applause fades as they all take in the disappointing sight. Trent hums thoughtfully. “Not great,” he comments.

Kaylee glowers at Angie, who just shrugs apologetically.

“Sorry, everybody.”

“I think the tree looks nice,” Alyssa says.

“I could get some flares from my car,” Greg suggests.

Trent’s answer is immediate. “No. Let’s just… let’s do Secret Santa.”

* * *

“Presents are the best way to show someone how much you care.” Trent’s tone is wise and confident. “It’s like this tangible thing that you can point to and say, ‘Hey, man, I love you this many dollars worth.’”

* * *

“First present, Shelby,” Greg says, looking at the tag and handing it over. Shelby unwraps it, her expression morphing into one of slight confusion as she pulls the gift out.

“A shower radio.” She shrugs. “Neat.”

“That was from me,” Kaylee tells her.

Shelby’s eyes go wide for a split-second. She clears her throat subtly. “Oh. Um, thank you, Kaylee, I’m sure I’ll get a lot of use out of this.”

The camera whip-pans to Alyssa, as if waiting for her to work it out, but Alyssa’s eyes are on Emma, who’s sitting a couple of people away from her. Emma startles out of her reverie when Greg tosses a plastic grocery bag in her face.

“Emma, that’s yours.”

“Oh, cool,” Emma says, untying the knot in the handles of the bag and pulling out an old-looking flannel shirt that’s definitely too big for her. She looks at it in confusion.

“That’s from me,” Mo says.

“Great.” Emma looks up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Where’d you get it?”

Mo shrugs. “I don’t know. It was so long ago.”

* * *

Emma sits in the conference room, wearing the oversized flannel over her white button-up shirt and tie. “He obviously forgot to get me something. And then he went into his closet and dug out this little number, and then threw it in a bag.”

She holds up her hands, which are covered by the long sleeves.

“Maybe he thought it was the best present for a lesbian.”

* * *

“Yep, that’s exactly what happened,” Mo says.

* * *

“Alyssa,” Greg says, passing the wrapped box around until it reaches her. Emma watches as she opens it, a nervous smile on her face. Alyssa’s tongue is poking out between her teeth as she concentrates on carefully unwrapping her gift. She opens the lid of the box, and her whole face immediately lights up.

“Oh my God!” She pulls the teapot out to show everyone. Emma bites her lip to hide her grin as Alyssa looks around. “Thank you very much, Santa, whoever you are.” Alyssa turns to look at Emma, beaming. It’s clear she knows exactly who her Secret Santa is. “It’s awesome.”

“There’s, uh, a little more to it,” Emma starts to say, but she’s cut off by Greg moving things along.

“Alright, next.” Greg tosses the little box that Trent had been wrapping earlier to Marcus, and Trent squeaks in horror as he watches it fly through the air. Luckily, Marcus catches it. He unwraps it, his jaw dropping as he sees what it is.

“Whoa. New iPhone.”

A few gasps are heard from around the circle. Emma shakes her head as she watches Trent’s gleeful expression.

“Wow, geez,” Trent says. “Somebody really got carried away with the spirit of Christmas. It was me. I got carried away with the spirit.”

“Wasn’t there a twenty dollar limit on the gifts?” Marcus asks. “This is… a lot more than that.”

“You don’t know that,” Trent says.

Marcus shows him the box. “You left the price tag on.”

“I did?” Trent’s eyes are comically wide. “What? Oh, shoot. Wow, okay. Well, who cares?”

The camera pans around the circle, focusing on everyone’s disbelieving looks as Trent scoffs and carries on.

“It doesn’t matter what I spent. What matters is that Christmas is fun, right?”

Greg holds out a present to Trent. “This one’s yours.”

“Ooh, what’s in here?” Trent unwraps the present eagerly as Angie watches him with anticipation. Trent’s face drops as his gift is revealed. “Oh, come on. An oven mitt?”

“I knitted it just for you,” Angie says, drawing an ‘aw’ from Kevin.

Trent puts the mitt on his hand, raising his eyebrows at Angie. “An oven mitt?” he repeats. “Okay.”

Turning on his heel, Trent storms out of the office.

* * *

“So Angie is basically saying, ‘Hey, Trent, I know you did a lot to help the office this year, but I only care about you a homemade oven mitt’s worth.’” Trent holds up his mitted hand to the camera as he stands restlessly outside the elevator. “I gave Marcus an iPhone!”

* * *

“So… should we just keep opening up the presents?” Kevin asks uncertainly.

Greg stands with his arms folded. He looks ridiculous with his hat and pointy ears. “We don’t do anything until Trent gives us further instructions.”

There’s a silence that stretches on awkwardly for several seconds, and then Trent hurries back into the room, looking a lot more excited.

“I’ve got it!” he declares. “We are going to turn Secret Santa into Yankee Swap!”

“Okay, what is Yankee Swap?” Emma asks.

“One person chooses a gift. The next person can either choose a gift, or steal that person’s gift,” Trent explains. “If your gift gets stolen, then you can steal someone else’s gift, or choose a new gift.”

Emma frowns. “I thought that was called Nasty Christmas.”

“Yeah, we call it White Elephant,” Alyssa says.

“Well, I call it fun!” Trent exclaims.

“Why are we doing this?” Shelby asks blankly.

“Because it’s better and more special,” Trent says.

“It sounds mean.” Kaylee’s arms are crossed as she glances quickly at Shelby, who’s clutching her gift tightly.

Trent shushes her. “No, it’s… just give it a shot.”

* * *

“Trent should have asked the party planning committee first,” Kaylee says sullenly. “He’s not supposed to just spring things on us out of nowhere.”

Her face crumples, her eyes shining with tears.

* * *

“Okay, Mo is up first,” Trent says. “Here’s the deal. You can either pick a new gift, or you can steal someone else’s gift that they’ve already gotten. Like the oven mitt.” He holds it up tantalizingly.

“I’ll take the teapot.” Mo shrugs. A reluctant Alyssa hands it over, and Emma leans forward in her seat, her brow furrowed.

“Oh, shouldn’t we… I bought that specifically for Alyssa.”

“Yankee Swap!” Trent yells. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Emma looks troubled, leaning back in her seat helplessly. Trent turns his attention to Alyssa.

“Okay, Alyssa, you can steal the oven mitt now.”

“I’ll take the iPhone,” Alyssa says.

“And I have to give it to her?” Marcus checks. “I don’t have a choice?”

“Correct,” Greg says. Marcus rolls his eyes as Alyssa takes his gift. “Now you can steal the oven mitt, the old shirt, or the shower radio. Or pick a new gift.”

Marcus’ eyes dart around the room, before he reaches into the middle of the circle and picks out a new present. He unwraps a box, opening it to reveal a flowery name plate that reads _Kaylee_. He shows it to the camera.

“That was meant for Kaylee,” Barry says.

“Yeah, I figured.”

He forces a smile. Alyssa looks at the iPhone box, her fingers trailing over the packaging. Emma watches her sadly.

“I think this is going great,” Trent says happily.

* * *

“Yikes,” is all Kaylee says when she unveils the giant Phantom of the Opera dogs poster.

Sheldon sighs. “Well, it’s for Barry, so…”

Barry cranes his head to try and get a better look at it as Kaylee turns it around to show everyone.

“That’s, like, the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” she says.

“Barry, you’re up,” Greg says.

Barry’s answer is immediate. “I’ll take the poster.”

Kaylee rolls it back up, handing it over without a fuss. Barry clutches it to his chest.

“Some people like these.”

“I will steal the iPhone,” Kaylee says. Shelby, who currently has it, scowls at her as she holds it out for Kaylee to take.

* * *

“Everyone wants the iPhone.” Trent is stood in the break room talking to the camera. The oven mitt is still on his hand. “It’s a huge hit. It’s almost a Christmas miracle.”

* * *

“Okay, Shelby, you get the next turn,” Trent says.

“I’ll take the…” Shelby looks around uncertainly. “The teapot.”

“Dammit,” Mo growls. Alyssa looks down at her lap as Shelby crosses the circle to retrieve her new gift.

“Okay, moving along.” Greg keeps things quick. “Mo, let’s go.”

“I… really want the iPhone,” Mo says, a strange glint in his eye.

“Nope, it’s already been stolen this round,” Greg tells him. “Pick something else.”

Trent is playing with the oven mitt. “I sure hope nobody takes this, cause it’s great.” His voice is unconvincing. “Wow, look at that fine craftsmanship. Somebody really put a lot of work into that.”

“I’ll take the oven mitt,” Mo says.

Trent barks out a laugh. “Sucker! See, I wanted somebody to take it. Boom. Reverse psychology.”

He throws the oven mitt at Mo, who just shrugs. Angie glares at Trent, who is unwrapping a new gift. He sighs heavily, reading out the note attached to the bag of yellow paintballs. Greg grins at him.

“’In addition to these paintball pellets, your gift includes two paintball lessons with Greg Nolan.’”

Greg holds up his hand for a high-five. “You and me, Trent.”

Trent just turns to him, ignoring his hand. “Who wants to take paintball lessons? Who? How is that better than an iPhone?”

“I never said it was better than an iPhone,” Greg says.

Trent stares at him for a moment, and then pulls off Greg’s fake ears and throws them in his face.

* * *

“Trent keeps bragging about his iPhone, but you know what?” Greg looks angrily at the camera. “Two paintball lessons with someone as experienced as I am is worth easily, like, two grand.”

* * *

“Last gift,” Trent says tiredly, as Greg puts his elf ears back on. “Kevin.”

“I want the foot bath,” Kevin says, snatching it from Alyssa’s grasp.

* * *

“That’s the thing I bought myself,” Kevin explains. “I’m really psyched to use it.”

He pauses, thinking it over.

“Maybe I should have taken the iPhone. Oh, shoot.”

* * *

“Alyssa, steal something or pick the final gift,” Greg says.

“I want the iPhone,” Alyssa says eagerly.

“Dammit,” Kaylee sighs.

Emma looks at her. “Sure you don’t, um, want the teapot?”

Alyssa stops, looking at Emma a little guiltily. She clears her throat, gesturing to the box. “I mean… it’s… it’s an iPhone.”

“Right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, definitely.” Emma brushes it off, mumbling a little as she looks at the floor. Alyssa doesn’t meet her eyes as she walks back to her seat.

“Well, I guess I will take that book of short stories,” Kaylee says.

“Yes, there you go.” Greg hands it over quickly. “I want the teapot.” He snatches it from Shelby.

Emma looks up at the ceiling, her jaw tightening. “You gotta be kidding me.”

* * *

“Yankee Swap is like Machiavelli meets…” Greg trails off thoughtfully, a smile spreading across his face. “Christmas.”

* * *

Angie storms out of the bullpen into the kitchen. Trent watches her go in confusion.

“What’s she so upset about?” Trent asks.

“Maybe because you hated her present so much,” Alyssa says, her voice harder than usual.

“Come on, I think Yankee Swap was a big hit!” Trent protests. “And I’m the one who ended up with Greg’s stupid paintball pellets.”

“Yeah, but the point is that we all bought gifts for specific people,” Emma says.

“And you should’ve just bought a twenty dollar gift like everyone else,” Barry tells him.

“Well, I didn’t. I got a big bonus because I fired what’s-his-name,” Trent blurts out. “And I used the money to buy something awesome. Sue me!”

Silence descends upon the room, until Shelby finally breaks it. “You got a bonus check?”

“How much?” Alyssa asks.

“Um, it wasn’t… it wasn’t that much,” Trent says casually. “It was… three thousand.”

Barry scoffs. “Alright, I’m done now.”

He leaves the circle, everyone else following suit.

* * *

“Unbelievable. I do the nicest thing that anyone’s ever done for these people, and they freak out,” Trent says, sighing heavily. “Well, happy birthday, Jesus. Sorry your party’s so lame.”

* * *

“That comes to a hundred and sixty-six dollars,” the cashier tells Trent.

“You’re the expert,” Trent says. “Is this enough to get twenty people plastered?”

The cashier looks at what Trent’s just bought. “Fifteen bottles of vodka? Yeah, that should do it.”

“Cool, cool,” Trent says, handing over the cash. “Box it up.”

* * *

Kevin turns up the volume on the music, standing happily with his feet in his new foot bath.

The rest of the party is stilted and silent. Marcus stands, lost, in the middle of the room. Alyssa has a cup of soda in her hand, standing next to Rachel and looking a little uncomfortable.

Emma is in the conference room with Greg.

“I bought this teapot specifically for Alyssa, and I know she really wants it,” she pleads with her cousin. “Can I trade you for it?”

“No trades.” Greg shakes his head.

“Come on.” Emma holds out the present she’d ended up with. “It’s a shamrock keychain. For good luck.”

“’A real man makes his own luck,’” Greg says. “Billy Zane. ‘Titanic’.”

Emma tries again. “Look, it has sentimental value, Greg. Can I buy it from you?”

“No, I want it. I’m going to use it,” Greg insists.

“You don’t even drink tea!”

“True, but I get sinus infections,” Greg says. “Which can be cured by making a tea from green tea leaf stems and pouring it directly into your nose like so.”

He picks up the teapot and puts the spout into his nostril. Emma just looks at him, chewing on her bottom lip as her shoulders slump.

* * *

“To think that my gift to Alyssa will be used for _that_ …” Emma trails off. “It’s a little too much to handle.”

She clenches her jaw, nodding tightly at the camera.

* * *

“This is awesome,” Rachel says, looking at the new iPhone in Alyssa’s hands.

“I know,” Alyssa says. “I’ve been needing a new phone for ages, as well.”

“Yeah, I was gonna get you one of these for Christmas,” Rachel says. “Now I don’t have to. I’m gonna save a ton of money.”

Alyssa gives her a half-grin. “So, what are you gonna get me instead?”

“I don’t know.” Rachel shrugs. “Probably, like, a sweater or something.”

Alyssa’s grin fades. She looks at Rachel, who’s engrossed in the phone, and then her eyes land on Emma, who’s sitting at her desk. Emma had been looking at Alyssa, but now she looks away quickly and focuses on her computer.

Trent staggers in, laden with a big cardboard box. “Uh-oh, looks like Santa was a little naughty.”

He plonks the box down on Alyssa’s desk so that everyone can see the vodka. And, just like that, people’s interests are piqued. Kaylee is the only one who looks doubtful. “What is that?”

“This is Christmas spirit,” Trent says. “As in, spirits. Booze.”

“We can drink?” Mo asks.

Sheldon makes a face. “We’re really not supposed to serve alcohol.”

“Zip it, Sheldon!” Trent yells. “I mean, it’s a party. Come on. If I can’t throw a good party for my employees, then I am a terrible boss.”

“I want a drink,” Mo says.

“Yes!”

Alyssa turns to Rachel, who has just struck up a conversation about fantasy football with Jules, who has also come up from the warehouse for the party. She opens her mouth, closing it again as she evidently realizes she won’t be able to join in this conversation. She turns her head again, catching sight of Greg, who’s fiddling with the teapot. Her expression turns guilty.

* * *

The party is in full swing, almost everyone is drinking, and Trent is drunker than anyone. He points to Marcus, his hand wavering a little as he says, “Kudos to Marcus, king of the party planning committee!”

Marcus’ eyes widen. “Oh, no, I really did not do anything.”

Behind him, Kaylee glowers.

* * *

“You know, you don’t have to answer calls during a party,” Emma says, wandering over to where Alyssa is sitting at her desk. Alyssa looks up in surprise, a smile spreading across her face when she lays eyes on Emma.

“Um…”

“Just thought you should know.” Emma laughs softly.

Alyssa blushes, reaching down slightly. “No, I was just… checking out my present.”

She places the teapot on the top of the receptionist desk, where Emma can see it, and keeps her eyes on Emma’s face. Emma shakes her head, looking thoroughly confused at the soft expression on Alyssa’s face.

“W-What?”

“I traded with Greg,” Alyssa says, still gazing at her. “Um, just… I figured, you know, you went to a lot of trouble. And it means a lot.”

A helpless, dopey smile begins to spread across Emma’s face. The two of them hold eye contact for a while, and then Alyssa clears her throat, carrying on as her cheeks flush even more.

“And also, Rachel got me an iPhone, or was going to get me an iPhone or something, so…”

“Well, either way.” Emma’s voice is gentle. “Uh, this is an amazing gift because it comes with bonus gifts. Look inside.”

Alyssa’s eyes snap to the teapot in confusion that gives way to excitement. She grins, standing from her seat as she carefully lifts the lid of the teapot, and then she gasps. “Oh my God.”

She pulls out Emma’s yearbook picture, looking up at the woman in front of her with wide eyes.

* * *

“Yeah, I think I made the right choice,” Alyssa tells the camera, unable to keep the smile off her face as she holds up her teapot.

* * *

“This is incredible,” Alyssa says.

Emma, leaning her forearms against Alyssa’s desk, looks at her with a bright smile on her face as she takes out the pencil. While Alyssa is engrossed in pulling the little things out of the teapot, Emma subtly reaches over and sneaks the envelope out of the box. She slips it into the pocket of her pants as Alyssa laughs at the latest thing she’s discovered.

“The peanut!”

“Yeah, I didn’t know if you were going to get that one,” Emma says.

Alyssa doesn’t notice her steal the envelope. “Peanut brittle, of course I was going to get it.”

* * *

Kevin dances drunkenly with Shelby. They bump heads, laughing as they collapse against each other. Kevin wraps his arms around her shoulders, ruffling her hair affectionately. Through the windows of the break room, Kaylee watches them. Her jaw is clenched, and when she sees Shelby kiss Kevin’s cheek under some mistletoe, she turns on her heel and storms away.

* * *

Outside in the snow, the camera shows Kaylee throwing baubles, one by one, at the dumpster. She snarls as she throws the last one, before dropping the box on the ground and stomping on one of the baubles that has rolled back to her feet. She lets out a shout of frustration.

* * *

“Christmas is awesome,” Trent says. “First of all, you get to spend time with people you love. Secondly, you can get drunk, and no-one can say anything. Third, you give presents.”

The camera cuts to Emma pulling on her blazer and coat as she and Alyssa – along with the rest of the office – walk out to the parking lot.

“What’s better than giving presents?” Trent continues. “And fourth, getting presents. So, four things.”

Footage shows everyone having a snowball fight in the parking lot. Alyssa gets Emma in the side of the head, and she laughs delightedly, bending down to scoop up handfuls of snow from the ground.

The picture cuts back to Trent, in his office earlier in the day. “It’s really the greatest day of all time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you think, because i crave validation and writing can be hard! also there might be angst next chapter i apologize in advance!


	6. booze cruise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is based off of episode 2x11 and those of you familiar with the office know what that means!
> 
> oh yeah and "amy" is literally because the character was played by amy adams but i wanted to use a different character name in canon. but captain jack remains captain jack because i just couldn't change it

Emma stands in the break room, a brief smug look crossing her face as she eats from a bag of potato chips. She gives the camera a little smirk as she turns to go right as Greg walks in. She’s nonchalant when she greets him.

“Hey.”

“Hello,” Greg says, brushing past her on his way to get a snack. He reaches the vending machine and his eyes go wide. “Emma!”

Emma turns back. “What’s up, buddy?”

“This is not funny,” Greg says, a little panicked. “Why is my stuff in here?”

The camera pans to show the vending machine. Emma has somehow managed to steal most of Greg’s belongings and arrange them inside the vending machine alongside the packets of chips and other snacks. His name plate is in there, as is the picture of him holding up a fish he caught when he was a kid. His volunteer sheriff’s deputy mug is there, too, along with a rubber band ball, a creepy bobblehead that’s always on his desk, and multiple other things.

“Wow, that’s weird,” Emma says, popping another chip into her mouth. “Ooh, dollar for a stapler. That’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not paying for my own stuff, okay?” Greg scoffs, turning to look at where Emma is surveying the vending machine. “I know you did this, because you’re friends with the vending machine guy.”

“Who, Steve?”

Greg starts furiously pushing buttons. “Yeah, Steve. Or whatever his name is.”

Alyssa enters the frame, looking thoughtfully at the vending machine. She has some quarters in her hand, and she taps her chin with the other hand as her eyes dart around the various items inside the case.

“Hm, what do I want?” she murmurs. “Ooh, it’s a pencil cup.”

Emma watches with glee as Alyssa feeds her quarters into the slot. Greg looks between Emma, Alyssa, and the vending machine with growing horror in his eyes.

“Oh, no, no, no. That’s my pencil cup.”

“Um, I don’t think so. I just bought it,” Alyssa says, pressing the button and watching as the pencil cup falls into the dispenser at the bottom. She bends down to pick it up. Greg’s expression is stormy.

“Uh, it’s mine, and you’re going to hand it over to me.” His voice is hard and authoritative.

Alyssa ignores him, straightening back up and grinning at Emma as she clutches the pencil cup to her chest. “I love these.”

“Okay, fine.” Greg sighs in defeat, searching his pockets for… “My wallet?”

“Oh, there it is,” Emma says, tapping the glass of the vending machine. “J-one.”

She eats another chip. Alyssa, struggling to contain her laughter, looks at her with equal parts awe and mischief in her gaze. Greg pats down his pockets.

“I don’t have any…”

“Here, you know what?” Emma pulls a little plastic bag out of her pocket and sets it in Greg’s hands. “You can have some nickels.”

She and Alyssa turn to go, giggling quietly. Greg turns his attention to the vending machine once more, fishing nickels out of the bag and putting them in the slot. “Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five…”

* * *

“Hello, everyone,” Trent greets as he walks in through the door.

“Morning, Trent.” Greg’s the only one to return the greeting. The rest of the office just look at him shrewdly.

“Where are we going this afternoon?” Angie asks.

Trent just laughs mysteriously, taking some candy from the bowl on Alyssa’s desk and walking into his office.

* * *

Emma and Alyssa are sat next to each other in the conference room for their interview segment.

“Last week, Trent sent out this mysterious memo,” Alyssa explains, and Emma holds up a piece of paper to read out.

“’It’s time for our first camaraderie event of the year,’” she reads off the page. “’So pack a swimsuit, a toothbrush, rubber-soled shoes, and a ski mask.’”

She pulls a face, shrugging at the camera. Alyssa snorts.

“A ski mask _and_ a swimsuit,” she says.

Emma thinks on it. “So that he can have us rob a bank—” she glances at Alyssa, who grins broadly at her, “—and then escape through the sewers.”

“And brush our teeth.” Alyssa bursts into a fit of giggles.

Emma raises her eyebrows at the camera, looking down at the memo in her hand once more.

* * *

“It is now time to unveil the destination of this year’s retreat,” Trent says excitedly. Everyone is in the conference room with varying levels of excitement versus apathy on their faces. “We are going on a harbor cruise of Lake Wallempaupack.”

Greg fist pumps. Nobody else reacts.

Barry just looks at him. “In late January?”

“It was cheaper,” Trent admits. Still, the silence drags on. Trent grins. “It’s a booze cruise!”

“I have a test for business school tomorrow night,” Marcus says, leaning in closer to talk to Trent. “Is it okay if I skip the cruise and study for that?”

“No, this is mandatory,” Trent tells him gleefully. “But don’t worry. You can study on the boat if you really want and, besides, you’re gonna learn plenty through my motivational speech. This is going to turn your life around.”

“I’m… already in business school.”

“Wait, Trent,” Kaylee pipes up. “Why did you tell us to bring a bathing suit?”

“To throw you off the scent,” Trent says, beaming proudly.

Kaylee frowns. “Yeah, but I bought a bathing suit.”

“Well, just keep the tags on it and you can return it.”

“I took the tags off already.”

“Well, that’s not my fault, okay?” Trent turns his attention back to the group. “Just… we’re not going to pay for a bathing suit.”

* * *

“I am a great motivational speaker,” Trent says. “I attended a Tony Robbins event by the airport last year, and – well, it wasn’t the actual course because you have to pay for the actual course – but it talked about the actual course. And I have incorporated a lot of his ideas into my own course.”

* * *

“Leader…ship,” Trent announces. “The word ‘ship’ is hidden inside the word ‘leadership’, as its derivation.”

Emma looks at the camera, shaking her head slightly.

“So, if this office is in fact a ship,” Trent continues blithely, pulling out something from under the desk. “As its leader, I am the Captain.” He puts it on. It’s a Captain’s hat. “But we’re all in the same boat. Teamwork.”

* * *

“Last year, Trent’s theme was ‘bowl over the competition’,” Shelby tells the camera. “So guess where we went?”

* * *

“Now, on this ship that is the office, what is the sales department? Anyone?”

After a few seconds, Jules speaks up from his spot at the back next to Rachel and Alyssa. “How about the sales department is the sails?”

“Yes, Jules, the sales department makes sales,” Trent says, completely missing the point of what Jules had been trying to say. “Let me explain. I see the sales department as the furnace.”

Angie snorts. “A furnace?”

“God, how old is this ship?” Emma asks.

“Ooh, how about the anchor?” Alyssa suggests.

Angie looks around. “What does the furnace do?”

Trent groans loudly. “Alright, let’s not get hung up on the furnace. It’s just—I see the sales department down there. They’re in the engine room and they are shovelling coal into the furnace, right? I mean, who saw the movie ‘Titanic’? They were very important in that movie. Who saw it? Show of hands.”

He raises his hand, as does Kaylee.

“Not really sure what movie you’re talking about,” Emma says. “You sure you got the title right?”

“’Titanic’,” Trent leans forwards a little desperately. Emma just looks at him blankly.

Alyssa jumps in. “I think you’re thinking of ‘The Hunt for Red October’.” Emma nods.

“No, I’m Leo DiCaprio, come on!” Trent growls in frustration before taking a deep breath.

* * *

“Trent stands in the front of the boat and says that he’s king of the world within the first hour, or I give you my next paycheck,” Emma says. She fiddles with her tie for a moment. “Um, and since we’re bringing partners and stuff, I’m inviting Amy along with me. She’s—I’ve been seeing her since just after Christmas, so it’s been about a month now. Things are going well, so, I thought it was time that everyone met her, you know?”

* * *

“Trent, everyone in the engine room drowned,” Kaylee points out.

“Thank you, spoiler alert,” Trent says, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “You saw the movie, those of you who did. They’re happy down there in the furnace room! And they’re dirty and grimy and sweaty—” Emma pulls a face, “—and they’re all singing together… In a nutshell, what I’m saying is leadership. We’ll talk more about that on the boat. Ship.”

Greg salutes him, completely unironically. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

* * *

Later that evening, everyone from the office files onto the ship. There’s a couple of levels so it, as well as a large indoor dining room on the top level. Trent stands by the ship’s Captain as he welcomes everyone onboard. He’s singing in between welcoming people.

“A three-hour tour of Lake Wallempaupack,” His falsetto is grating. The Captain winces, and Trent turns to him, shaking his hand. “I’m Trent Oliver. I am the Captain of this party.”

“I’m Captain Jack. I’m Captain of the ship,” the man says. “I’m also Captain of anyone who sets foot on the ship.”

Trent laughs a little. “Okay.”

* * *

“In an office, when you are ranking people, Manager is higher than Captain,” Trent says, stood at the stern of the ship for his interview. “On a boat, who knows?”

* * *

A few people from the office are looking at the decorative steering wheel at the bow of the ship. Trent is right at the front. He laughs.

“Hey, look. I’m king of the world!”

The camera pans to Emma, who checks her watch, and grins.

* * *

In the dining area of the boat, Emma and Amy sit opposite Alyssa and Rachel. Emma and Amy are engrossed in their own conversation as Captain Jack clears his throat to get everybody’s attention.

“Okay, welcome aboard! I am Captain Jack—”

“And I am the Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin, Trent Oliver,” Trent interrupts, standing beside Captain Jack. He continues to interrupt the safety briefing, and Jack grows more and more visibly irritated.

“Not only am I your ship’s Captain, I am also your party Captain!” Jack tries to brighten up. “We’re gonna get it going here in just a few minutes—”

And I am your party Captain, too!” Trent yells excitedly. His employees stare at him with different levels of exasperation, embarrassment, and amusement.

“Trent, your company employees are not the only people on the boat tonight, okay?” Jack speaks to him firmly. “Why don’t you let me and my crew do our job? You just sit back and have a good time, okay?”

* * *

Amy looks around at Emma, Alyssa, and Rachel. “You guys, it’s like we’re in high school and we’re at the cool table, right?”

Emma frowns. Rachel laughs. “Yeah.”

“Alyssa, were you a cheerleader?” Amy asks warmly.

“No, she was Captain of the debate team,” Rachel answers for her. “Total nerd in high school. Sweater vest and everything.”

“That’s hilarious,” Amy says. Emma and Alyssa glance at each other.

“It’s not really that—” Emma begins, but Rachel cuts her off as she addresses Amy.

“Where’d you go to school?”

“Fisher Bohara.”

Rachel laughs again. “’Piss la poo cares-uh’?”

At this, Emma and Alyssa exchange a confused look.

“Yeah, we played you in school,” Rachel continues, looking straight at Amy. “You—you really look familiar. Did you… You cheered for them, didn’t you?”

“No,” Emma mutters.

“I did!” Amy says. “You were the female quarterback, oh my God!”

“What?” Emma turns to them. Amy grins at her, arm looped through Emma’s.

“A-W-E-S-O-M-E,” she says, starting her old cheer and turning back to Rachel, who’s laughing delightedly. “Awesome, awesome is what we are, we’re the football superstars!”

Alyssa shakes her head slightly in disbelief, looking at Emma, who glances back with raised eyebrows. Alyssa, a little mockingly, shimmies her shoulders to Amy’s cheer. Emma snorts, and Alyssa bites her lip.

“Okay, listen up all you Dunder Mifflinites!” Trent gets everyone’s attention. Amy stops her cheer as the room grows a little quieter. “I would like to talk to you all about life preservers.”

Everyone stares at him.

“Now, one important life preserver in business is IT Support.” Trent spreads his hands wide as if waiting for a response. He doesn’t get one.

“Not now, Trent,” Captain Jack says into the mic behind him. “We’re doing the limbo!”

“For—”

“Who wants to come up here and hold my stick?” Jack laughs, holding out a limbo stick.

Greg immediately steps forwards. “Me.”

“Usually… it’s a woman,” Jack says.

“So?”

Captain Jack stutters for a moment. “How would you like to steer the ship, Greg?”

Greg’s face lights up.

* * *

Greg is at the decorative wheel, although it’s clear he thinks that it’s the real deal. Jack stands at his shoulder.

“Keep us on a steady course. Keep a sharp eye out. I’m counting on you.”

Greg salutes him as he walks away.

* * *

“I was the youngest pilot in Pan Am history,” Greg says, looking determinedly ahead. “When I was four, the pilot let me ride in the cockpit and fly the plane with him. And I was _four_. And I was great! And I would’ve landed it, but my dad wanted us to go back to our seats.”

* * *

“Now it’s time for the dance contest!” Captain Jack yells.

Trent grabs the mic from him. “Why don’t we do that after I do my presentation and—”

“Nope.” Jack wrestles the mic back. “Dance contest!”

“Alright, we’ll have a motivational dance contest!” Trent whoops, making his way onto the dance floor. The music starts, and Trent launches into an improvised spiel as he moves to the beat. “Dancing! It’s a primal art form used in ancient times to express yourself with the body.”

His dancing is ridiculous, and athletic in a strangely labored way. He starts slapping his arms and knees, as the rest of the office looks on in shock. Emma and Alyssa can’t keep it together.

* * *

“Sometimes you have to take a break from being the kind of boss who teaches people things,” Trent puffs, “and just be the boss of dancing.”

The picture cuts to Trent attempting to do the worm. In reality, he’s just repeatedly belly-flopping on the ground.

* * *

“Snorkel shot! Snorkel shot!”

Amy and Jules are cheering on Rachel, whose eyes water a little as she sucks up the tequila from the snorkel. Alyssa wanders into frame holding two beer bottles. She frowns in confusion as she takes in the scene in front of her. Rachel grins triumphantly.

“Come on, Lyssy!” she encourages. “You next, come on!”

“No, I’m not doing that,” Alyssa says.

“Me next!” Jules yells, and the others whoop loudly. Alyssa winces at the volume, leaning closer to Rachel.

“Hey, why don’t we find a quieter place to hang out?”

“You know what, I’ve just got to wait for Jules to do his shot,” Rachel says. “Just a minute.” She leaves Alyssa’s side, whooping as she cheers on her friend. “Come on, Jules!”

“Come on, Jules!” Amy echoes.

* * *

Emma and Alyssa walk around the upper deck of the ship, wrapped up warm in their coats.

“It’s getting kind of rowdy down there,” Alyssa comments.

“Yeah,” Emma says. “So… Lyssy?”

Alyssa laughs softly. “I hate it when she calls me that.” She sighs, sobering. “Sometimes I just don’t get Rachel.”

Emma holds onto the railing, looking out onto the lake, as Alyssa leans with her back against it. “Well…”

“I mean, I don’t know,” Alyssa says quietly. She looks up at Emma, seeming like she wants to say something else, but the words don’t come. Emma looks at her, the earlier teasing smile wiped off her face. Alyssa clears her throat. “So. What’s it like dating a cheerleader?”

“Ha,” Emma says. She lifts one shoulder. “Um…”

She licks her lips nervously, looking down at her feet before meeting Alyssa’s gaze. Alyssa shifts a little closer to her, a little smile on her face that Emma doesn’t return. Emma puffs out her cheeks, teetering on the edge of a confession. She grips the railing tightly. When she looks at Alyssa, her expression is open. There’s pain in her eyes.

Maybe Alyssa senses this, because the smile drops from her face. The air is somehow heavy. Alyssa breaks the eye contact between them, scuffing her shoe on the deck.

“I’m cold,” she whispers. “I think I’m gonna…”

She pushes gently off the railing, swallowing as she walks past Emma back inside. Emma stays, leaning harder against the railing and bowing her head.

* * *

“So, what’s this presentation all about?” Jack asks Trent.

The two of them, along with an excited Greg and a mopey Emma, are stood at the bar on the ship

“Ah, see, this is of general interest,” Trent tells the camera, before looking back to Captain Jack. “It’s about priorities. And making decisions, using the boat as an analogy. What is important to you? Like, if the boat is sinking, what do you save.”

Captain Jack shrugs. “Easy. Women and children.”

“Nope,” Trent says. “Salesmen and profit centers.”

“That’s a stupid analogy,” Jack says.

“Okay, well, obviously you don’t know anything about leadership.”

“Well, I was the Captain of a PC-1 Cyclone Coastal Patrol Boat during Desert Storm,” Jack tells him, matter-of-fact.

“Wow,” Greg says. “You should be the motivational speaker.”

Trent scoffs. “Him?”

“Yeah, he gives me real responsibility,” Greg says. “Captain Jack delegates. He’s let me steer the ship for the last hour.”

Captain Jack grimaces.

* * *

“I’d like to be engaged,” Amy says, sitting next to Alyssa and trying to engage her in conversation. She gestures to Alyssa’s ring. “How did you manage to pull that off?”

Alyssa laughs a little sadly. “I’ve been engaged for three years, and there’s no end in sight. So, you don’t want to ask my advice.”

Amy’s expression drops into one of concern.

* * *

“Suppose your office building’s on fire,” Captain Jack says. “Emma, who would you save?”

Emma looks up, startled. “Uh, let’s see, um…”

The camera zooms in on where Alyssa is sat, talking to Amy. Emma looks at her for a moment, and then turns back to the guys.

“The… customer,” she says, her voice flat. “Because the customer is king.”

“Not what I was looking for, but a good thought,” Trent says. Emma ignores him, staring at her hands. Jack scoffs.

“She’s just sucking up.”

Rachel, more than a little past tipsy, walks up and slings her arm around Jack’s shoulders. “When you were in the Navy, did you ever almost die?”

Emma walks away.

“Oh yeah,” Jack says. “And I wasn’t thinking about some customer. I was thinking about my first wife. The day I got back on shore, I married her.”

Rachel nods, her eyes wide.

* * *

Emma walks past one of the cameras, on her way to where Amy and Alyssa are.

“You know what, I would save the receptionist,” she says. “I just wanted to clear that up.”

She swallows, striding over to Alyssa and bending down as if to say something to her, but she’s interrupted by Rachel grabbing the microphone.

“Hey, everybody, can I have your attention for just a second?”

Emma jerks away from Alyssa, looking at Rachel in surprise. The boat goes silent.

“We were up at the front and we were talking about what’s really important.” Rachel slurs the words just slightly. “Alyssa, I think enough is enough. I think we should set a date for our wedding. How about June tenth? Let’s do it!”

Someone whoops in excitement. Alyssa’s mouth hangs open as Amy nudges her joyfully. Emma just stands there, frozen in shock. The camera zooms in on her pale face, and Emma’s shoulders slump as Alyssa stands up with a hesitant smile on her face.

“Okay,” Alyssa says, and almost everyone cheers. “Okay!”

“Oh my God!” Amy is beside herself as she grabs hold of Emma’s hand. Emma just watches as Alyssa walks towards Rachel.

“I love you, baby,” Rachel tells her. They kiss, and Emma’s jaw tightens. She sinks down into Alyssa’s vacated seat, staring out the window with a lost look on her face.

“I don’t want to take credit for this,” Trent says into the mic, “but Rachel and I were just having a conversation about making commitments and making choices, right? Did I motivate you?”

Rachel hugs Alyssa to her tightly. “No, it was Captain Jack.”

“Well, could’ve been either one of us.”

“We gotta celebrate!” Captain Jack says, amongst the cheers. “I got an idea. I can marry you right now as Captain of the ship, huh?”

Emma blanches.

Trent buts in. “And I can marry you as Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin!”

“No, no, I want my mom to be there,” Alyssa says, waving them both off.

“Then I’ll give you away!” Trent tries again.

Alyssa grimaces. “No, thank you.”

* * *

Emma and Amy watch, from outside the dining room, as Alyssa and Rachel dance together. Amy snuggles closer.

“Do you think that’ll ever be us?”

“No,” Emma says immediately. She doesn’t even look at her.

Amy turns to her, irritated. “Emma, why did you even bring me here tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Emma says blankly, still looking through the window at Alyssa. “Let’s break up.”

“What?”

* * *

Trent is up at the mic yet again while Captain Jack is in the bathroom.

“Dunder Mifflin employees, and everybody else, listen up,” he says. “I have some very urgent news I need to tell everybody. The ship is sinking. Okay? We’re going down!”

The Dunder Mifflin employees roll their eyes, but the strangers on the boat begin to panic.

“Just wrap your heads around the reality of that.” Trent ploughs on. “In five minutes, this ship is going to be at the bottom of the lake. And there aren’t enough spaces on the lifeboats. Who are we going to save?”

The general public is agitated. People are scrambling to get out. Through it all, Trent keeps going.

“Do we save sales? Do we save customer service? Do we save accounting? This is a business scenario.”

A man opens the window, and jumps clean out of it and into the water below.

Suddenly, Captain Jack emerges into the room, looking furious. “What the hell is going on?”

* * *

Trent is zip-tied to the railing of the upper deck at the front end of the ship. “I’m in the brig. Boat size corporate friendly, as advertised.” He pauses. “What is the deal with the guy jumping overboard? What was—If he had just waited and heard what I had to say, he would be motivated right now, and not all wet.”

* * *

Emma walks out onto the deck, hands in her pants pockets. Trent cranes his head around as best he can.

“Somebody there?”

“What happened to you?” Emma asks, coming to a stop beside him.

Trent sighs. “Captain Jack has a problem with authority.”

“Oh, right, because you announced that his ship was sinking.”

“Yeah, he just totally lost it,” Trent says. “If you ask me, _he_ caused the panic.”

There’s a long pause as Emma looks out onto the lake. The water sparkles in the moonlight. “What a night.”

“Well, it’s nice for you,” Trent says. “Your friend got engaged.”

Emma laughs humorlessly. “She was always engaged.”

“Rachel said the first one didn’t count.”

“That’s… great.” Emma’s voice is hollow. She blinks a few times, glancing down at her feet. “To tell you the truth, I… used to have a big thing for Alyssa.”

Trent looks at her in surprise. “You’re kidding me. You and Alyssa? I would’ve never… you hid that really well.”

Emma leans against the railings sadly. “Sure.”

“Well, Alyssa’s cute,” Trent says with a little shrug.

“Yeah,” Emma murmurs. “She’s really funny and—she’s warm, and she’s just… Anyway.”

Trent looks at her for a moment, gentler than he’s been with anyone in a long time. “Well, if you like her so much, don’t give up.”

“She’s engaged.”

“Engaged ain’t married,” Trent scoffs. “Never, ever, ever give up.”

“But she doesn’t—” Emma cuts herself off. “I just… I don’t know.”

She gulps heavily, shaking her head almost to herself. She and Trent both turn to watch the water as the boat cuts through the gentle waves on the surface of the lake. Below them, Greg’s voice carries up from where he’s at the wheel again.

“Don’t worry, Trent,” he calls. “I’m taking us to shore!”

“It’s a fake, wheel, dummy!” Trent yells back.

A tiny smile finally tugs at Emma’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any response at all would be really really appreciated, life's been kinda hard lately and i could use all the positivity and/or feedback i can get <3


	7. the secret (+ drug testing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this chapter is shorter, and a little different. i kind of combined plot threads from a couple of different episodes into one chapter: episode 2x13 (the secret) and episode 2x20 (drug testing) and threw in a couple of tiny new lines etc. enjoy!

“I know the wedding’s only a few months away, but I finally bought my veil,” Alyssa tells Kaylee, who has brought over a stack of bridal magazines to Alyssa’s desk. In the background, Emma glances up from her paperwork.

Kaylee gasps. “That’s so exciting! Can I be a bridesmaid?”

“Uh…” Alyssa trails off, clearly not having decided on that yet.

“Listen, you don’t have to answer now,” Kaylee reassures her. “Oh, how are you going to do your hair?”

“Okay, I was thinking about wearing it fully down.” Alyssa takes the clip out of her hair, freeing the part that that had been up, and shakes her curls loose. “Like this?”

“You look like an angel. I’m seriously going to cry.”

Emma bites her bottom lip as she looks down, a forlorn expression on her face. Trent comes to stand by her shoulder, shaking his head.

“This must be like torture for you,” he comments. Emma’s eyes widen, and she hastily looks around to see if anyone has overheard.

* * *

“Yeah, back on the booze cruise, I told Trent about some feelings I… used to have, for Alyssa,” Emma says, shrugging a little. “I had just broken up with Amy, and had a couple of drinks, and I confided in the world’s worst confidant. He’s been making these comments for over a month now and it’s a wonder nobody’s caught on.”

* * *

“Hey, Trent?” Emma follows him into his office, shutting the door before the camera can go in there, too. Instead, the camera peeks through the blinds. “Do you remember that thing I told you on the booze cruise about Alyssa?” Her voice is low. “That was personal. So if we could just keep that between you and me, that would be great.”

“Really?” Trent leans his arms on the desk. His expression turns into one of concern. “Who else knows?”

“Nobody.”

Trent’s eyes widen. “Wow. Well, my lips are sealed.”

“Thank you,” Emma says, breathing a sigh of relief.

* * *

“Emma and I are great friends. We hang out a ton. Mostly at work.” Trent sits in his office, grinning widely. “But the fact that she told me her secret, and no-one else, says everything about our friendship.”

He looks seriously at the camera.

“Which is why I intend on keeping that secret… for as long as I possibly can.”

* * *

“God, when will this day _end_?” Barry moans, dragging his feet as he walks out of the kitchen back into the bullpen. Emma and Alyssa look at each other in glee, and mimic, at the same time:

“God, when will this day _end_?”

“Jinx!” Alyssa yells quickly. “Buy me a coke.”

Emma sighs heavily, her mouth closing instead of saying presumably the same thing that Alyssa just beat her to saying. She opens her mouth again, but Alyssa cuts her off.

“No, no talking,” she says sternly.

Emma rolls her eyes, making her way through the annex to one of the vending machines in the break room. Alyssa looks at the camera gleefully.

“Emma’s not allowed to talk until after she buys me a coke,” she explains. “Those are the rules of jinx, and they are unflinchingly rigid.”

Fishing some quarters out of her pocket, Emma makes a show of inserting them into the slot. She smiles sarcastically at a giggling Alyssa as she presses the button to make the machine dispense a can of coke. But nothing happens, and instead a red error message flashes up on the screen. Alyssa gasps.

“Sold out! This has never happened in the history of jinx,” she says, looking at Emma with a grin on her face.

Emma gestures to the machine with a pout, clearly hoping that Alyssa will waive the rules, but Alyssa holds firm.

“Sorry, that’s not my problem.”

She leaves Emma standing there, slack-jawed and silent. Emma presses the coke button a couple more times, and then looks at the camera with a confused – and slightly lost – expression. She pulls a face.

* * *

“You can’t take away my company card!” Trent exclaims. Sheldon stares back at him, unimpressed. Kaylee leans over the side of a cubicle as she watches the exchange.

“Trent, you spent eighty dollars at a magic store.”

“To cheer Emma up!” Trent says. “She’s been really upset lately and I thought magic tricks would make her laugh.”

Sheldon shrugs. “She seems fine to me.”

“You’re not her friend. You wouldn’t know,” Trent says.

“Well, what’s wrong with her?”

“She’s in love with a girl she works with who’s engaged,” Trent sighs, a little dreamily.

Kaylee gapes at him. “Alyssa?”

“Oh—” Trent’s eyes widen comically. He looks at the camera, a deer caught in the headlights, and turns and walks away without another word.

* * *

“Emma’s got it bad for Alyssa,” Kevin whispers.

Mo nods. “Which one’s Alyssa?”

“Well, she’s…” Kevin trails off as Trent walks past. “Hey, Trent. Do you think Emma will try to break up the wedding?”

His question is innocent enough, but Trent bristles.

“You know what, Kevin? Emma is a friend of mine,” he says. “The only people that this crush really concerns is Emma and Alyssa… and me.”

* * *

Emma is coming out of the bathroom into the kitchen area, still silent, when Kaylee walks up to her and slips her hand into the crook of Emma’s elbow. She makes a sympathetic face.

“Emma… why didn’t you tell me that you had a crush on Alyssa?”

Emma blanches.

* * *

Trent grimaces. “Cat’s out of the bag, I guess.”

* * *

“Sorry, what was that?” Alyssa asks teasingly, sat across from Emma at a table in the break room during their lunch break. “Did you wanna tell me something?”

Emma shrugs, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Alyssa giggles at her, clearly having a great time playfully taunting her for not being able to speak.

“You look like you wanna tell me something.”

Emma pulls a face, eyes darting over Alyssa’s shoulder and past the camera as if she’s trying to see if anyone from the office is watching them. Alyssa carries on.

“No, you look like you have something to say and you just _can’t_ for some reason. Come on, Emma, you can tell me anything.”

She grins, clearly expecting Emma to smile back at her, but Emma blinks a few times as her gaze drops to her hands. Emma swallows harshly, her eyes pleading when she looks back up at Alyssa.

Alyssa’s smile fades as Emma meets her eyes, so many things unspoken. Emma’s eyebrows are drawn together, and she taps her fingers against the table nervously, but she still says nothing.

* * *

“Something’s up with Emma,” Alyssa says worriedly. “I meant it when I said she could tell me anything, but I know she’s not going to break the rules of jinx.”

An idea strikes her.

“Wait.”

* * *

Emma is sat at the table in the kitchen, staring blankly at the wall, when Alyssa walks in, still in her jacket from what had clearly been an outside trip. She looks up in surprise as Alyssa pulls a can of coke out of her pocket and plonks it down on the table.

“Here.”

Emma just looks at the can in confusion.

Alyssa tilts her head to the side. “Just buy it from me.”

She nudges the can further towards Emma, who looks at it for a moment longer before pulling her wallet out of her pocket. She takes out a dollar and gives it to Alyssa before picking up the can of coke and setting it down very deliberately in front of her. Alyssa picks it up, a little smile on her face.

“Hey,” she says.

Emma clears her throat, her voice coming out slightly hoarse. “Hey.”

“Good to have you back,” Alyssa says, glancing down at her feet. “Um, I should get back to work, but—”

“Can I tell you something?” Emma interrupts nervously.

Alyssa nods. “Of course.”

Emma stands, grabbing a glass from the cabinet above the sink and filling it with water. She takes a sip, and her voice is less scratchy when she speaks next, although she fiddles with the glass in her hands.

“I, um… I told Trent on the booze cruise – so stupid,” she starts, rolling her eyes at herself. “I told Trent that… I’d had a crush on you when I first started here.”

The camera zooms in on Alyssa, whose mouth falls open a little as she looks at Emma. “Oh.”

“I just thought that you should hear it from me,” Emma says quickly, closing her eyes. “Because Trent is terrible at keeping secrets and, you know, I don’t know what he’s told anyone else. Um…”

“Right,” Alyssa says quietly, so many conflicting emotions swirling in her eyes.

Emma clears her throat. “And seriously… It’s totally not a big deal, okay?”

Alyssa nods slowly.

“And when I found out you were engaged, I mean—” Emma glances at her.

“No, I—I know,” Alyssa cuts her off gently. “Like, I kind of—I mean—I thought that maybe you had… when you first started.”

At this, Emma’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “You did?”

“I mean, just because we got along so well and stuff,” Alyssa says quickly, floundering a little for what to say.

“No, totally,” Emma says, looking down at the glass of water in her hands. “You… saw through me. Great.”

Alyssa watches her take another sip, looking like she’s not quite sure what to say. “So, are you going to be, like, totally awkward around me now?”

Emma snorts a little. “Oh, yeah. Big time. Hope that’s okay.”

That makes Alyssa laugh softly. She bites her lip, pushing off against the counter she’s leaning on. It’s like she wants to say something more, but can’t bring herself to, so she goes to leave. Emma takes a deep breath.

“Alyssa?”

“Yeah?” Alyssa turns back, almost hopefully.

“It was, like, three years ago,” Emma says, not quite meeting her eyes. “So… I’m totally over it.”

“Cool,” Alyssa whispers, something hard to pinpoint in her expression.

“Okay.” Emma drains the rest of her glass, turning around to rinse it under the tap. Alyssa watches her a little sadly, eventually slipping through the door and back into the bullpen. Once she’s gone, Emma closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Liar,” she tells herself.

* * *

“I’m so sorry,” Trent sobs, sat at his desk with Emma leaning against the wall. “I just… I didn’t mean to—and then _Sheldon_ was being so—and I—and then Kaylee—Emma, I’m so, so sorry, I just don’t want this to affect our f-friendship and—”

“Hey,” Emma interrupts, sighing heavily. “It’s going to be fine. It’s, uh, not a big deal.”

“No, I know, I’m… I’m fine,” Trent says, sniffling.

“It’s one day,” Emma says. “They’ll get bored of gossiping, alright?”

“Alright.”

Emma walks over to put a hand on his shoulder, and Trent hugs her around the waist. Emma pats him, somewhat awkwardly, and looks at the camera. She looks tired.

* * *

“It’s going to be fine, right?” Emma asks.

* * *

“Here’s the reports you asked for,” Alyssa says, dropping them on Trent’s desk. She makes it almost to the door before she turns back around in concern. “Have you been crying?”

“What? No.” Trent scoffs, wiping just below his eye. “Listen, though, about you and Emma—”

“Oh, no, that’s—” Alyssa interrupts him. “You don’t have to—”

“No, I just feel it’s my responsibility as your boss-slash-friend—”

“No, really, it’s okay,” Alyssa says. “I know that Emma had, like, a crush on me when she first started. But… that was a long time ago, so…” Her gaze drops, and Trent frowns in confusion.

“It wasn’t that long ago. It was on the booze cruise,” he says.

Alyssa blinks. “Emma had a crush on me on the booze cruise? Or she told you about it on the booze cruise?”

“Uh, um—” Trent looks at the camera. “Okay… shut it, Trent. Nope, I’m done. I’m out.”

Once more, a number of emotions play across Alyssa’s face. She swallows, glancing out the window to the side at where Emma is putting on her jacket at the end of the day. She chews on her bottom lip, looking completely confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coming up next: Things


	8. casino night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based off episode 2x22, casino night - aka the season 2 finale - if you know the office, you know.
> 
> if not, have fun.

The warehouse has been transformed. Blue velvet curtains hang from the ceiling, a bar is being set up, and poker and craps tables are dotted around the space. Trent’s voice is heard over the picture.

“Tonight, the Scranton Business Park is having Casino Night. And we are converting our warehouse into a full-blown gambling hall.”

The camera cuts to Trent, sitting at his desk, excited beyond measure.

“All for charity!”

* * *

Rachel leans against Alyssa’s desk, frowning. “So, what’s the deal? We’ve got to pay for our own drinks? That’s lame.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Alyssa tries to convince her. “And besides, I’m a roulette expert.”

“Impossible,” Greg says, sitting down at his desk. “Roulette is not a game of skill. It’s a game of chance.”

Emma shrugs. “I can kind of always win at roulette.”

“Oh, really?” Greg scoffs, clearly not believing her. “How would you do that?”

“Mind control.”

Greg laughs this time. “You can’t be serious.”

Emma just stares at him. Greg’s expression slowly changes.

“Are you serious?”

“Ever since I was a little kid, maybe eight or nine, I could sort of…” Emma pauses. “Control things with my mind.”

“I don’t believe you,” Greg says. “Continue.”

“It was just little things, you know? Like, I could make something shake,” Emma says. “Or I could make a marble fall off the counter. Just little things.”

Greg stares at her for a moment, and then shakes his head. “Ha. That’s ridiculous. You know what?” He looks around, before a smug smile graces his lips. “Why don’t you move that coat rack?”

He points to the coat rack at the side of Alyssa’s desk. Alyssa and Rachel both turn to look at it.

“Excuse me, everyone!” Greg calls. “Attention in the office, please. Emma is about to prove her telekinetic powers.”

Everyone rolls their eyes, but about half of them pay some attention to what’s going on.

“I’ll try,” Emma says with a shrug, spinning around in her seat to face the coat rack. Alyssa’s eyes dart from Greg to Emma, who takes a deep breath, shakes her shoulders to loosen them up, and holds her hand out as she narrows her eyes at the coat rack.

For a while, nothing happens, and then the coat rack rocks from side to side.

Alyssa looks from the coat rack to Emma with wide eyes, and Rachel looks completely nonplussed. Greg just stares at it like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

* * *

Alyssa, without saying a word, holds up the hooked end of her umbrella. She grins.

* * *

Emma is still concentrating on ‘moving’ the coat rack, but she grins, her cheeks flushing a little when Alyssa sends a sly wink her way.

Greg’s expression is blank. “Oh my God.”

* * *

“Oh, and another fun thing about this casino night,” Trent says, addressing the bullpen at large. “At the end of the night, we’re going to give the check of all the charity money we’ve raised to an actual group of Boy Scouts. Right, Sheldon?”

“Actually, I didn’t think it was appropriate to invite children,” Sheldon says. “Since there’s going to be gambling and alcohol, and it’s in our dangerous warehouse, and it’s a school night, and Hooters is catering, and—Is that enough? Should I keep going?”

Trent just glares at him for a long, long moment.

“Why are you the way that you are?” he asks dully. “I… hate so much about the things that you choose to be.”

There’s silence for a while, and then Trent rubs at his eyes.

“Anyway, I’m going to be donating my winnings to Afghanistanis with AIDS.”

“I think you mean the Aid to Afghanistan,” Emma says.

Trent shakes his head. “No, I mean Afghanistanis with AIDS.”

“Afghani,” Angie corrects.

“That’s a dog,” Trent says.

“No, that’s Afghan,” Alyssa tells him.

“That’s a shawl.”

Greg looks confused. “Wait. Canine AIDS?”

“No, humans with AIDS.” Trent sighs.

Mo speaks up. “Who has AIDS?”

* * *

Alyssa sorts through a box full of DVDs on her desk. Emma, stopping to grab some candy, looks at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” Alyssa says dully.

Emma leans over to get a better look at the DVDs. “’Till Death Do Us Rock’.”

“They’re wedding bands,” Alyssa explains, and Emma’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh.”

“Rachel was supposed to pick the band, but she’s concentrating more on her bachelorette party at the moment,” Alyssa says, pursing her lips as she begins to slide the box off the table.

“Wait, wait, where are you going?” Emma asks, putting out a hand to stop her. “I mean, even if you don’t hire a band, you still have to watch them.” She picks up one of the DVDs, a faux-serious expression on her face. “Alyssa, these are people who have never given up on their dreams. I have great respect for that. And, yes, they’re all probably very bad, and that’ll make me feel better about not having dreams.”

Alyssa laughs softly. “There’s a KISS cover band in here.”

“Let’s do it,” Emma says immediately, grinning as Alyssa chuckles before standing up and following her to the TV in the conference room.

* * *

“I’m pretty happy these days,” Alyssa says, only a tiny bit forced. “I’m… getting married next month, and I’m getting along with everybody at work.”

* * *

Emma swallows. “I, uh, talked to Dee Dee Allen about transferring, yeah.”

She shrugs her shoulders.

“I have no future here.”

* * *

Greg looks at his bobblehead for a moment, and then he points at it while narrowing his eyes in concentration. Nothing happens.

* * *

Emma puts the next DVD into the player, and makes her way back to her seat next to Alyssa.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna decide,” she says. “They’re all extremely good.”

Alyssa snorts, rolling her eyes affectionately. “I think I should hire them all. Do it like Lollapalooza.”

“Yes.”

“Have, like, three stages.”

Emma grins. “Your mom would _love_ that.”

They settle in to watch the next video, and Emma checks the list that she’s made.

“This band is called Scrantonicity. Let’s take a look.”

The music is objectively terrible, and even Alyssa struggles to bop along to it. Suddenly, her jaw drops, and she slaps Emma on the shoulder repeatedly.

“That’s Kevin! On the drums!”

“What?” Emma looks closer, laughing delightedly as she spots him. “Oh my God, that’s Kevin!”

Alyssa laughs hysterically. “This is incredible.”

“He’s the drummer _and_ the singer,” Emma observes. “Amazing.”

* * *

“We really don’t do a lot of weddings,” Kevin tells the camera. “We actually don’t play in public very often. We’re all really hoping that Alyssa’s wedding works out, because this could be a turning point for the band.”

* * *

“Wow—oh!” Emma’s eyes widen as a strange cartoon filter effect comes into effect for the next chorus. “Yeah, you haven’t seen that since the eighties.”

Alyssa laughs uncontrollably, and Emma grins at her.

“Okay, we have to sign him. I’m gonna call the label.”

She gets up, pulling her phone out of her pocket, and Alyssa chases after her as she opens the door.

“No, no! Come back,” she giggles, grabbing Emma’s wrist.

“You’re gonna lose him to another wedding!” Emma says, breaking down into a fit of laughter when she and Alyssa get tangled in each other and somehow slam the door closed again. “Kev!”

* * *

“Emma’s great.” Alyssa grins. “Being with her just… takes away all the stress of planning my wedding.”

* * *

Casino night is in full swing, and everyone’s having fun. People are eating dressed up, and drinking, and gambling, and Mo is distracting a random man so that he can steal some of his gambling chips.

* * *

“Oh, I steal things all the time,” Mo says easily. “It’s just something I do. I stopped caring a long time ago.”

The picture cuts to him stealing snacks out of one of the vending machines.

“You should see how many supplies I’ve taken from this place.” He shrugs happily. “Honestly, I love stealing things.”

* * *

Trent, Emma, Alyssa, Kevin, Marcus, Angie, Sheldon, Barry and a few others all sit at a poker table. A dealer addresses them all.

“Okay, the game is no-limit Texas Hold ‘Em.” He deals two cards to everyone. “Good luck.”

The camera is behind Sheldon, showing that he has two Jacks. Trent considers his own cards for a moment, before putting them face down on the table and pushing his entire pile of chips towards the center of the table.

“All in.”

* * *

“Bluffing is a key part of poker,” Trent says knowledgably. “Which is too bad, because I am not very good at bluffing.”

He grins slyly.

“Did you believe me?”

* * *

“I’ll call,” Sheldon says, once everyone else has folded. He goes all in.

“What are…” Trent just looks at him. “That’s insane.”

Sheldon shrugs. “I have good cards.”

“Well, Sheldon, I went all in on the first hand,” Trent points out. “Doesn’t that tell you that I might have good cards too? Don’t be stupid, just take it back.”

“Oh, he can’t take it back, sir,” the dealer says. “He went all in.”

“Okay, alright, whatever,” Trent says, aloof.

“Flip ‘em,” the dealer instructs. Sheldon flips his cards, and Trent groans. He glares at Sheldon.

“You really screwed that up.”

He scrapes his chair back from the table and storms off.

* * *

“I don’t really play cards, but I’m not going to lie to you,” Sheldon says. “It felt really good to take money from Trent.”

He considers this for a moment.

“I’m gonna chase that feeling.”

* * *

“I expect to do very well tonight.” Greg smiles smugly at the camera. “I have an acute ability to read people. Emma, for instance, has a huge tell. When she gets a good hand, she coughs.”

* * *

The poker game continues. Emma looks at her cards, coughing under her breath slightly. “Uh, I will raise.”

She puts some of her chips in. Greg folds with a scowl on his face.

A moment later, all the chips are going to Emma. She smiles happily, thanking the dealer as he pushes the chips towards her.

* * *

“It’s the weirdest thing,” Emma says. “Every time I cough, he folds.”

* * *

Shelby’s playing another game, everyone else around the table hyping her up. Kaylee wanders over to her side, a little too close to be strictly platonic. She clears her throat, overly-formal when she speaks.

“Good evening, Shelby.” She nods at the table. “What’s this?”

“Evening, Kaylee,” Shelby says, glancing at her briefly with a fondness in her eyes that she immediately hides. “This is craps. I need to roll an eight. If I do, everyone wins.”

Kaylee hums as Shelby blows on the dice in her hand. “Then roll an eight.”

“Thank you, Kaylee.”

“Good luck, Shelby,” Kaylee says. Shelby rolls.

There’s silence for a moment, and then everyone erupts into cheers. Shelby beams, punching the air. In her elation, she presses a kiss to Kaylee’s cheek. Kaylee gasps, shoving her away, but there’s an excited glint in her eye as she walks off. She walks like she knows Shelby won’t be far behind.

* * *

There are four players left in the poker game: Emma, Alyssa, Kevin, and Angie. Emma and Alyssa are sat at opposite ends of the table, staring each other down playfully. Emma’s in a soft-looking blazer, her hair combed a little tidier than usual. Alyssa’s hair is up, and she’s wearing a lilac-colored dress. Her makeup, though, is as simply done as usual.

Alyssa looks down at her cards, biting her lip to hide a smile and glancing to the side before her eyes meet Emma’s once more. Emma scoffs.

“Yeah, right,” she says.

Alyssa is the picture of innocence. “’Yeah, right’ what?”

“What was this?” Emma imitates her expression, dramatizing it and making Alyssa laugh.

“I have good cards,” she says simply.

Emma grins at her. “Really?”

“Mm-hm.” Alyssa looks down, pushing her chips towards the middle of the table. “And I’m gonna take you all in.”

“Wow.” Emma bites her lip for a moment, shaking her head a little. “I think you’re bluffing.”

Alyssa just shrugs, looking at Emma with a challenge in her expression. Emma narrows her eyes, a slow grin spreading across her face as she studies Alyssa thoughtfully. Alyssa smiles winningly.

Eventually, Emma goes all in.

Kevin glances between the two of them. “Yeah, I think Alyssa’s full of it,” he says decisively.

Alyssa’s upper lip twitches as she flips over her cards. “Straight.”

Emma snorts, clicking her tongue and looking a little disappointed. “Hilarious, by the way. Three nines.”

Alyssa grins triumphantly, scooping all of Emma’s chips up. Angie pats Emma on the back while Kevin chuckles at the rueful smile on her face. The other players all clap for Emma as she exits the game.

“Thank you very much,” Emma says, taking a sip of her drink. “It was fun.”

* * *

“I won the 2012, twenty-five hundred dollar No-Limit Deuce to Seven Draw Tournament at the World Series of Poker in Vegas,” Kevin says proudly. “So, yeah, I’m pretty good at poker.”

* * *

“All in,” Kevin says, a direct challenge to Angie, who is now the only other player left in the game.

“Okay, let’s do it,” Angie says excitedly, shoving all her chips in. “This is so much fun.”

Kevin confidently tosses his cards down. “Three Queens.”

“I have an ace,” Angie says, laying her cards out. Marcus gasps from behind her.

“No, that’s a flush.”

“Oh my God, I have a flush!” Angie grins delightedly. “I won! Look, I have all the clovers.”

Kevin’s face drops.

Angie smiles at him. “Do you wanna play again?”

* * *

Kevin pouts. “I suck!”

* * *

Kevin is downing a beer when Rachel walks up to him at the bar.

“She took you down, huh?” she asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kevin says miserably.

“Hey, I saw your video,” Rachel says. “Your band, Scrantonicity. You guys rock.”

Kevin looks up from his beer hopefully. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Rachel assures him. “You guys wanna play our wedding?”

“Awesome!” A grin spreads over Kevin’s face as he bounces back from his sour mood. He frowns suddenly. “Did Alyssa say it was okay?”

Rachel’s expression darkens slightly, and she lifts one shoulder. “Whatever. I’m in charge of the music.”

“Dude, you will not be sorry,” Kevin says, accepting the fist-bump that Rachel offers him.

* * *

“Ms. Allen, hello,” Emma says, stepping outside to answer the video call on her phone. On the screen, Dee Dee stares back at her in all her power-suited glory. It’s unclear why she’s wearing a power suit this late at night.

“Miss Nolan,” she greets. “Have you given any more thought to the transfer?”

“Oh, yeah.” Emma’s eyes widen a little.

“Good. Have you told anyone that you’re most likely going to be doing this?”

Emma shakes her head. “No. No, I haven’t.”

“Hm.” Dee Dee considers this for a moment. “You should.”

* * *

Rachel sits in the car, looking at Alyssa, who’s leaning against the door from the outside.

“Sorry, baby, I’m just beat,” she says, pulling a face and yawning exaggeratedly.

“It’s okay,” Alyssa says. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Okay.” Rachel’s expression turns serious. “Hey, don’t try to lose too much money, alright?”

Emma, hands in her pockets, wanders aimlessly towards the parking lot.

“Fine,” Alyssa says.

“You know, in case you still want a honeymoon.” Rachel snorts. She revs the engine, suddenly catching sight of Emma and calling out to her. “Hey, Nolan. Keep an eye on her, alright?”

Emma startles out of her reverie. “Okay. Will do.”

“Bye.” Alyssa waves as her fiancée drives off in their car. She turns to face Emma. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Emma says with a little sigh. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Alyssa says, walking forwards so that she’s standing in front of Emma. There’s a teasing smile on her face. “Especially after I took all your money in poker.”

“Ha. Yeah.” Emma fiddles with her phone before shoving it back into her pocket. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

“About when you wanna give me more of your money?”

“No—”

Alyssa grins. “Did you wanna do that now? We can go inside, because I’m feeling kinda good tonight.”

“I was just, um…” Emma gazes at her, throat moving as she visibly gulps. Alyssa drops the playfulness, turning more serious as she waits for whatever Emma has to say. Her eyes are open. Emma shakes her head helplessly, like she's throwing what she was going to say out the window, and steels herself. “I’m in love with you.”

It’s clear that this is the last thing Alyssa expects her to say. Her eyes go wide. “What?”

“I’m really sorry if that’s weird for you to hear,” Emma says, her voice soft. “But I needed you to… hear it.”

Alyssa stares at her, completely taken aback. Her chest rises and falls quicker than it had ten seconds ago. Her lips are slightly parted in shock. Emma looks at her apologetically.

“Probably not good timing. I know that, I just—”

Alyssa’s voice is small when she speaks. “What are you doing?”

Emma shrugs, looking down at her shoes for a moment before glancing back up to meet Alyssa’s eyes, in which tears are starting to gather.

“What do you expect me to say to that?” Alyssa whispers.

"I don't..." Emma closes her eyes briefly. “I just needed you to know. Once.”

“Well, I, um…” Alyssa shakes her head slightly, looking more than a little scared. She licks her lips. “I… I can’t.”

“Yeah,” Emma mumbles. She shifts on the spot.

Alyssa swallows. “Emma, you have no idea—”

“—Please don’t do that—”

“—what your friendship means to me…”

Emma shakes her head, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. “Come on. I don’t wanna do that.” She sniffs. “I… I wanna be _more_ than that.”

Alyssa looks at Emma like her heart is starting to break. “I can’t.”

The muscles in Emma’s jaw work hard as she tries to keep down a sob. She won’t meet Alyssa’s eyes.

“I’m really sorry if…” Alyssa closes her eyes. “If you misinterpreted things. It’s probably my fault.”

Emma’s openly crying now, silent, but she shakes her head. “Not your fault. I’m sorry I... misinterpreted our friendship.”

She swipes roughly at her cheeks, lifting her glasses to wipe the tears away, and walks away from Alyssa. Her feet drag with every step she takes, leaving Alyssa standing on her own in the middle of the parking lot, and Alyssa finally lets the tears stream down her cheeks as she twists her hands around and looks down at her engagement ring. She clenches and unclenches her fists, sniffling as Emma gets further and further away.

* * *

“Well, I think tonight was an indisputable success,” Trent announces. “All’s well that ends well, right?”

* * *

Alyssa’s sat, perched on Emma’s desk up in the office, with her phone up to her ear. Tear tracks are still etched into her face. The camera films her from the kitchen; she’s unawares.

“About ten minutes ago,” she murmurs. “No, I didn’t know what to say.”

She pauses.

“Yes, I know.” She takes a shaky breath. “I don’t know, mom. She’s my best friend.”

Alyssa dips her head as she listens to whatever her mother is telling her.

“Yeah, she’s great,” she says. She pauses again, and then whispers, “Yeah, I think I am.”

Emma slowly enters the office. Her eyes are downcast. Alyssa lets out a soft gasp at the sight of her, and it’s like her whole body relaxes.

“Um, I have to go,” she tells her mom. “I will.”

Alyssa hangs up and puts her phone down on the desk, standing upright again as Emma gets closer. Emma still hasn’t looked up from the floor. Alyssa hastily wipes at her own cheeks.

“Listen, um, Emma…”

She trails off when Emma gets closer still, and then Emma is ever-so-gently sliding her arms around Alyssa’s waist and placing a soft kiss to her lips.

Alyssa’s arms come up, her hands cupping Emma’s cheeks for a moment before she runs her fingers through Emma’s hair, which has gotten more and more unruly throughout the night. They kiss gently, holding each other like they’re afraid they might break. Alyssa sighs into the kiss.

Alyssa’s hands lower to Emma’s sternum. She lingers in the kiss for a moment longer, and then she pulls back. Emma chases her lips for a split-second before retreating, too, and then she slowly opens her eyes.

The two of them gaze at each other’s lips, breathless, as their arms gradually slip from around each other. Then they’re just looking at each other, completely speechless.

The camera captures every moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> i love you guys?


	9. gay witch hunt/the initiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let it be known that although i took elements from episodes 3x01 and 3x05, i didn't take any of the main plotlines, just the jim/pam stuff and some of the michael stuff too because i just want to get emma back to scranton as quick as possible.
> 
> just imagine that this chapter takes place a few months after the previous one, and covers several weeks after that

Greg is clipping his fingernails at his desk. It’s a painstakingly slow process that nobody can really look away from and, when he’s done, Greg blows the clippings onto the desk next to his…

Where Marcus now sits.

* * *

“Yeah, I’m not a temp anymore,” Marcus says. “I got Emma’s old job, which means – at my ten-year high school reunion – it will not say ‘Marcus Howard is a temp’. It will say ‘Marcus Howard is a junior sales associate at a mid-range paper supply firm.”

His gaze drops slightly as he pauses.

“That’ll show ‘em.”

* * *

Alyssa is typing at her computer. Almost by instinct, her eyes are drawn to where Marcus is sat. It’s like she’s still not used to it not being Emma at that desk even after a few months. She blinks a couple of times, staring off into the middle distance.

* * *

Back at the casino night, the camera finally shows what had happened after Emma and Alyssa’s kiss. They’re staring at each other, unsure of what to say as their hands slide together between them. Emma bites her lip, shaking her head a little bashfully.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” she says softly.

Alyssa gazes at her, and admits, “Me too.”

Emma exhales shakily, and the two of them continue to just stare at each other, in their own world. Alyssa sucks in a slow breath.

“I think we’re just drunk.”

“No, I’m not drunk.” Emma’s voice is quiet. She frowns in concern. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” Alyssa says. Emma hesitates for a second before leaning in to kiss her again, and Alyssa almost lets her. But, just before their lips touch, she says one word. “Emma.”

Emma pulls her head back, and the mood shifts. It’s sadder, now, and Alyssa’s eyes are brimming with tears. Emma chews nervously on her bottom lip.

“You’re really going to marry her?”

And, slowly, Alyssa nods.

“Okay.” Emma nods, almost to herself, swallowing as she takes a step back. Gradually, she slips her hands from Alyssa’s, and walks away.

* * *

“Emma’s gone. She’s gone. I miss her so much!” Greg’s face is screwed into an ugly mess as he weeps hysterically. “I cry myself to sleep!”

His expression changes immediately into one of smug disdain.

“False. I do not miss her.”

* * *

“I can’t say whether Dunder Mifflin paper is less flammable, sir, but I can assure you that it is certainly not more flammable.”

Emma sits at a desk, between two others, in a brand new office. It’s more modern than the Scranton branch, with tiled floors and tall windows, and Emma sits in the middle of it all making sales like always.

* * *

“Why did I transfer to Stamford?” Emma repeats. She’s sat in an unfamiliar room doing her interview. “I think that’s pretty obvious. I got promoted. And you can’t beat that view, right?”

* * *

Emma’s looking out the window when the man at the desk in front of hers twists back and gets her attention. He has short brown hair, ocean blue eyes, and he’s wearing a very colorful tie.

“Hey, Big Tuna,” he says. “You’re single and into women, right?”

Emma nods. “I am.”

The man nods over his shoulder to a blonde woman getting coffee in the break room. “Pretty hot, huh?”

Emma looks at her for a moment, shrugging noncommittedly.

“She’s completely crazy,” the man tells her, a grin on his face. “Steer clear, Big Tuna. Head for open waters.”

Emma stares at him, blinking a couple of times. “Okay.”

* * *

“I ate a tuna sandwich on my first day,” Emma sighs, “so Nick started calling me Big Tuna. Or, at least I hope it was because of the sandwich. I… don’t think any of them actually know my real name.”

* * *

“Big Tuna is a super ambitious person, you know?” Nick, the man from earlier, is having his own interview now. “The cut-your-throat-to-get-ahead type. But, I mean, I’m not threatened by her.”

He grins.

“I went to Cornell. You ever heard of it?” He chuckles. “I graduated in four years, I never studied once, I was drunk the _whole_ time, and I sang in the acapella group ‘Here Comes Treble’.”

* * *

“Emma’s nice enough.” Carrie, a woman with dark hair and brown eyes, purses her lips thoughtfully. The picture briefly shows her sitting at the desk behind Emma’s before cutting back to her interview. “I mean, I don’t know how well she’s fitting in here. She’s always looking at the camera like this.”

She imitates one of Emma’s classic looks direct to the camera, widening her eyes a little and shrugging a shoulder, looking like a slightly confused puppy.

“Like, what is that?”

* * *

Alyssa is sat at reception, looking up hopefully as the door opens. Her face falls when Rachel walks in, holding two aluminium foil-covered plates in her hands. She approaches Alyssa’s desk, holding both plates up.

“Chicken or fish?”

“Um… chicken,” Alyssa says. Rachel hands a plate over, lingering even once Alyssa’s set it aside.

“So, are you, uh, having a good day?” she asks.

“Excellent, thanks.”

Rachel nods. “Good. I’m glad.”

There’s an awkward pause, during which Alyssa smiles politely and Rachel shifts on the spot uncomfortably, and then she turns and goes. Alyssa doesn’t watch her leave. The camera zooms in on her left hand, which is completely bereft of any rings.

* * *

“Yeah, I didn’t go through with the wedding.” Alyssa shrugs one shoulder. “I got cold feet a few days before, and… I can’t really explain it. I just had to get out of that relationship.”

She puffs out her cheeks.

“We still had to pay for all the food, so we froze it,” she explains. “But I’m… I’m doing well. I have my own apartment, and I’m taking art classes, and I have lunch for the next five weeks.”

* * *

Rachel leans against some boxes down in the warehouse, looking upset.

“After Alyssa dumped me, I, um… I kinda stopped taking care of myself for a while,” she admits. “I hit bottom when I had a drunk driving arrest.”

The picture cuts to her mugshot for a moment.

“But now I’ve been working out again, and you know, I’m not going to take her for granted.” She gulps, looking a little desperate. “I gotta win her back.”

* * *

“I got them a toaster,” Barry says. “They called off the wedding and gave the toaster back to me. I tried to return the toaster to the store and they said they no longer sold that kind of toaster.”

He glares at the camera.

“So now my house has got two toasters.”

* * *

Nick opens his desk drawer, freezing when he sees his calculator in the middle of some Jell-O. His expression hardens as he takes it out and sets it on his desk.

“Okay. Who put my calculator in Jell-O?”

The camera pans to Carrie, who looks at the plate in confusion, and then to Emma, who smirks at the camera a little. She’s clearly eager to be pranking again.

“Good one,” Nick says. “But, seriously. Guys, who did this?”

The rest of the office stare at him blankly. Nick stands up, looking around with a tense jaw as he continues.

“I need to know who put my calculator in Jell-O, or I’m gonna lose my freakin’ mind!” He kicks a trashcan, and Emma quickly focuses on her computer with wide eyes. Slowly, she glances back over at the camera, shaking her head at it almost imperceptibly.

* * *

“I’d like you to keep a log of everything Trent does hour by hour,” Dee Dee Allen tells Alyssa, pulling a small stack of paper out of her purse and handing it to her. “Corporate wants to analyse it, okay?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can—”

“Thank you, Alyssa,” Dee Dee says, walking out without another word.

Alyssa looks through the glass of Trent’s office walls, seeing him giggling as he plays ‘Bop-It’.

* * *

“It’s weird,” Alyssa says. “Dee Dee always used to treat Trent like he was a ten year old. But lately it’s like he’s five.”

* * *

“Hmm.” Carrie leans back. “My chair’s squeaking.”

Emma doesn’t look up. “Is it?”

“You took my chair,” Carrie says decisively.

“No, I didn’t.” Emma turns around. “I took back the chair that you took from me, but I didn’t take your chair.”

Carrie snorts. “When you get up, I’m just gonna take it back anyway, so…”

“So I guess I can’t get up.” Emma grins at her. She pushes back from her desk, rolling her chair over to the copier casually and looking at Carrie with a smug expression on her face.

Carrie tries and fails to hide a smile.

* * *

A voice comes over the P.A, getting Barry’s attention immediately.

“Attention, Scranton Business Park. There will be complimentary pretzels available in the lobby from now until four o’clock, as a thank you to our loyal tenants.”

Barry is out of his seat at the word ‘pretzels’, speed walking to the door with a happy grin on his face. As he passes Trent’s office, Trent saunters out and follows him. Alyssa watches Trent go, her face pinched in concern.

* * *

“Once a year, they bring in a little cart, and they give away free pretzels,” Alyssa says. “It’s really not a big deal.” She pauses. “To some people it is.”

* * *

“Productivity is important,” Trent says, standing in the elevator. “But how can I be productive if I have this one little thing in my brain that I cannot get out? And that one little thing is a soft pretzel.”

He grins eagerly.

“So, I’m just going to have my soft pretzel, and I’ll get to work. And I’ll be super productive.”

* * *

The elevator doors open, and Trent steps out to see a huge line already formed for the pretzel cart.

“Oh, sh—” He groans. “Come on.”

Dragging his feet, Trent walks to the back of the line.

* * *

“I thought you might want to use this time to authorize some checks,” Alyssa suggests, catching up with Trent hours later. She’s almost desperate.

“I thought that maybe you could wait in line for me while I go to the bathroom.” Trent’s expression is hopeful. “You’re an angel.”

“Hey, why don’t you just go up to your office, get some work done, and I’ll bring you a pretzel?” Alyssa raises her eyebrows, nudging Trent playfully.

Trent pulls a face. “I like them a certain way, and if it gets screwed up, then…”

“I just think it’s really important that you be productive today.”

“I’ll be back,” Trent promises. Alyssa sighs for a moment, and then holds up a sheet of paper to the camera. It’s the day, divided into hour-long blocks. There’s one thing written on the sheet.

‘Stood in pretzel line.’

* * *

“Hey, Big Tuna, can I talk to you for a second?” Nick asks, getting up from his chair and facing Emma.

“Sure.”

“Can you… stand up, and talk to me over there?”

Carrie groans. “That’s it? That’s what you came up with?”

“I’m acting my heart out here,” Nick says. “You asked for my help, so I helped.”

He sits back down, in a huff, and Emma looks at the camera. Her game face is on.

* * *

“Dunder Mifflin, this is Alyssa.” Answering the phone, Alyssa’s eyes widen in horror. “Oh, hi, Dee Dee.”

The camera cuts to Trent, who is now back in his office, asleep at his desk.

“He’s, uh, on a sales call.”

* * *

Carrie is squeaking the chair.

Emma starts singing, high-pitched and off-key.

Nick sings along.

Carrie gives up.

“This is a very disproportionate reaction,” she tells Emma, who simply smiles as she keeps singing.

* * *

It’s gone five o’clock, and Alyssa is just about to leave. The phone rings. Alyssa sighs for a moment, before turning back and answering it. “Dunder Mifflin.”

Emma’s voice comes through the line. “Uh, hey.”

“Oh my God.”

The picture cuts to Emma in Stamford, alone in an empty office, and continues to cut back and forth between the two of them.

“Um, hi,” Emma says dumbly.

Alyssa’s voice is soft, and a little disbelieving. “Hi.”

“Sorry, I forgot Kevin’s extension,” Emma says hurriedly. “It’s a fantasy football thing.”

“Oh.”

“And I was just gonna go through the system, because I didn’t think you’d be there,” Emma continues, wincing as she speaks. “Wait, why are you still there?”

“I had to work late,” Alyssa says. “Dee Dee’s making me keep a log of everything Trent does all day.”

“Wow.” Emma pauses, seemingly warring with herself. “Do… do you think you could send me a copy of that?”

“Yeah, totally.” Things are slightly awkward, and there’s a long pause before Alyssa speaks again. “So—”

“So—”

“Do you—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, go ahead,” Emma says hurriedly.

“I, um, everything’s pretty much the same around here,” Alyssa says.

Emma nods. “Oh, good.”

“A little different.” Alyssa clears her throat. “What time is it there?”

Emma smiles to herself. “We’re in the same time zone.”

“Oh, yeah.” Alyssa laughs softly.

“How far away did you think we were?”

Alyssa shrugs. “I don’t know. It felt far.”

“Yeah,” Emma breathes, holding the phone tightly to her ear.

“I have a question for you,” Emma says. It’s a while later, and she’s still on the phone with Alyssa. “How many word per minute does the average person type?”

“I type ninety,” Alyssa says. She’s now sat down at her desk.

“Shut up,” Emma says. “Mavis Beacon doesn’t even type ninety.”

“It’s true!”

“Okay, well, I said average.” Emma tries again.

Alyssa shrugs. “Seventy? How many do you type?”

“Forget it.” Emma laughs, resting her forehead in her free hand. “I was just about to brag. Forget it.”

“Come on, tell me.” Alyssa’s laughing too.

“No.”

“You have to tell me now!”

Emma groans. “Sixty-five.”

“So, okay, I’m watching the movie,” Alyssa tells her. “By myself, because I just wanted a relaxing evening at home—”

“Right.”

“And I’m freaking out!” Alyssa laughs. “That movie is so scary.”

Emma is leaning back in her chair, feet propped on her desk. “I know!”

“But I’m holding on because I keep waiting for Sandra Bullock to show up.”

“No way,” Emma says, grinning fondly. “How do you confuse ’28 Days’ with ’28 Days Later’?”

“I don’t know!”

“No, I think you’re making this up,” Emma says.

Alyssa gasps. “You think I would make this up?”

“Fancy new Alyssa Greene would,” Emma insists. “Fancy new life, and apartment…”

“Oh, yeah, my fancy new apartment.” Alyssa’s voice turns sarcastic. “I have one bedroom, one bathroom, and a closet.”

“And how many kitchens?”

Alyssa shakes her head fondly. “I have one kitchen.”

“Wow, you got totally taken for a ride, Greene,” Emma says, and it makes Alyssa laugh. “Most apartments these days have, like, three.”

“Three kitchens?” Alyssa’s attention is pulled to the door opening and Barry walking in to grab his bag, which he’d forgotten in his complete pretzel-focus hours before. He gives Alyssa a confused smile.

“Bye, kid.”

“Bye,” Alyssa tells him.

Emma frowns, a little disappointed. “Oh, yeah. I should probably—”

“Oh, no—”

“I was—”

“I don’t know, I—” Emma closes her eyes.

Alyssa’s voice is a little sad when it comes through the phone. “You have to go?”

“Yeah.”

“No, I should probably go, too,” Alyssa says. “I mean… yeah.”

“Yeah,” Emma echoes. She sighs wistfully. “Bye, Alyssa.”

“Bye, Emma,” Alyssa says quietly.

Reluctantly, they both hang up, leaving their respective empty offices.


	10. branch closing/the merger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is based off of episodes 3x07 and 3x08 because i was impatient to reunite emma and alyssa!

It’s early, but Emma is at work.

She’s standing in front of the fax machine with hands in her pockets and a slightly sleepy smile on her face. Carrie walks in and her steps pause momentarily as she looks at Emma in surprise.

“Hey.”

Emma nods at her. “Hey.”

“Who are you faxing so early in the morning?” Carrie asks curiously.

“Oh, um…” Emma clicks her tongue as she considers it. “Kinda hard to explain.”

Carrie narrows her eyes playfully, humming under her breath as she leaves Emma to it.

* * *

“I haven’t had a ton of contact with the Scranton branch over the last six months, but before I left—” Emma holds up a piece of paper, “—I took a box of Greg’s stationary. So, from time to time, I send Greg faxes. From himself. From the future.”

She smirks at the camera as she begins to read.

“Ahem. ‘Greg. At eight o’clock this morning, someone poisons the coffee. Do not drink the coffee. More instructions will follow. Cordially, Future Greg.’”

* * *

As Emma reads the fax aloud, the camera cuts to Greg in the Scranton office receiving the transmission. He reads it, his expression morphing into one of concern, and then he looks up at the sound of the door. Barry walks into the bullpen from the kitchen, yawning, with a mug of coffee in his hand. The camera follows Greg as he sprints across the room.

“NO!”

With a scream, Greg smacks the mug out of Barry’s hands. Barry glares at him, completely taken aback, but Greg just grabs his wrist and lets out a deep breath.

“You’ll thank me later.”

* * *

“Trent, please stop singing.”

Dee Dee Allen sits in the chair on the other side of Trent’s desk with a stony expression on her face. Trent stops in the middle of his rendition of ‘Whistle Down the Wind’, clearing his throat and steepling his fingers together as he pulls himself into a semblance of professionalism.

Dee Dee sighs. “I’m here to tell you that we are closing the Scranton branch.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The board voted last night to close your branch,” Dee Dee tells him.

Trent frowns in confusion. “On whom’s authority?”

“The board’s.” Dee Dee closes her eyes momentarily as it begins to sink in for Trent. “I’m very sorry, and I do not relish having to tell you this. The board asked me to thank you for your years of service.”

“But what happens to me? To them?” Trent nods to the bullpen.

“A small number of people will be transferred to the Stamford branch, and the rest will be getting severance packages,” Dee Dee says.

Trent swallows. “Am I… a small number person or a severance package person?”

“Well, we haven’t made final decisions about personnel yet.” Dee Dee leans back in her seat. “But you’re a severance package person.”

Trent puts his hands over his eyes. His shoulders begin to shake.

Through the windows of the office, everyone watches the exchange in confusion.

Kevin walks over to Alyssa’s desk. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

“I don’t know,” Alyssa says worriedly.

“Is it serious?”

“I don’t know, Kev.”

Kevin sighs. “If you find out anything, call me.”

Alyssa opens her mouth, glancing over the short distance to Kevin’s desk, before closing her mouth again and nodding. “You got it, buddy.”

Kevin grins at her, holding out his fist, which Alyssa bumps gently.

* * *

“It is… an outrage,” Trent says, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes are red from crying. “That’s all. It’s… They’re making a huge, huge mistake. Do you think people like Barry grow on trees? Do you think there are more Angies out there? Show me that farm. With Angies and Barrys and Kevins ripe for the picking.”

He blinks back more tears, tightening his jaw, and stares into the distance.

“Show me that farm.”

* * *

Carrie approaches Emma’s desk. “Hey, um, did you hear about your friends in Pennsylvania? Rumor has it that the Scranton branch is…” she draws a line across her throat.

Emma’s eyes widen. “Really? Wow… that’s too bad.”

“Sorry, Scranton branch is closing?” Nick spins around in his seat. He snorts at Emma. “In your face.”

“Well, I work here now,” Emma points out.

“Sucker,” Nick laughs.

Emma raises her eyebrows at the camera.

* * *

“Are you okay?”

Alyssa looks worried as she watches Trent meander aimlessly around the bullpen and come to a halt beside the receptionist desk.

“Yeah. Best physical condition of my life.” Trent is fooling nobody.

“What did Dee Dee want?”

“Nothing, just checking in,” Trent lies. “I can’t tell you, so…”

Alyssa narrows her eyes. “What can’t you tell me?”

“Nothing,” Trent says. He scratches his cheek and lowers his voice to a mutter. “What difference does it make? We’ll all be gone in a few weeks anyway.”

“What?”

“What?” Trent’s eyes snap to Alyssa’s.

“You just said that we’re gonna be gone—”

“Do I have any messages? Trent interrupts.

Alyssa keeps pressing. “Trent, what’s going on?”

“What did Dee Dee say to you?” Greg – whose ears have apparently perked up – asks. “Was she mean to you?”

“No. Okay, okay.” Trent clears his throat, and turns to face the bullpen. “Listen up, everybody. I have some news.”

* * *

“All I can do right now is put on a brave face and go out there and be their leader,” Trent says.

* * *

“It’s over,” Trent tells everybody. “We are screwed. Dunder Mifflin Scranton is being shut down.”

Everyone is silent. Except for Sheldon.

“Trent, we really shouldn’t be talking about this until all the decisions have been made.”

Trent’s face is stony. “You knew about this all along, didn’t you?”

“Dee Dee told me just a few minutes before she told you,” Sheldon says.

“Traitor.” Trent points at him. “You are a traitor.”

Kaylee speaks up. “What about us, Trent? Do we still have jobs?”

“I don’t know,” Trent says. “Probably not. This is the worst.”

His face screws up in a way that isn’t pretty at all. Then, he sniffles, calming his voice down.

“Let’s just go back to work and do the best job that we can. Sheldon, I’d like to see you in my office, please.”

“Alright,” Sheldon says dully, shuffling steadily over.

Trent groans under his breath. “Oh my God, you walk so slowly.”

* * *

“It makes complete sense that this would happen today,” Marcus says, holding up a small box. “Because I just received this in the mail today. One thousand business cards with this address and phone number.”

* * *

“I think word got out about Scranton,” Emma says to her boss, Josh, nodding towards where Nick is leading a ‘Stamford, Connecticut’ chant. “Hey, do you know any more details on that? Like is, uh, anybody transferring here?”

“Nothing’s definite,” Josh tells her. “In fact, everyone—” he raises his voice, “—I just want to say that nothing is definite at all. You guys have done a great job getting our numbers up around here, but until this thing is official, let’s just keep working.”

* * *

“I think it would be kind of weird if _everyone_ from Scranton came here,” Emma confesses. “It’d be like going to your high school reunion, and you saying, ‘Hey, I missed you guys.’ And then they’re all like, ‘Oh, don’t worry about it. We’re all gonna move in with you… forever.’”

* * *

“It’s a blessing in disguise. Actually, not even in disguise,” Alyssa says. “In my fantasy, I always thought I would slap someone, make a big speech, and storm out forever.”

She shrugs.

“But… this is good, too.”

* * *

“You’re kidding.” Rachel is stunned. She’s up in the bullpen talking to Kaylee and Shelby. “What does this all mean?

“Well, some of us are fired, and a few of us are going to Connecticut,” Shelby says.

Rachel’s eyes dart to Alyssa. “Do you know who’s going where?”

“You’re gonna be fine, Rachel,” Kaylee says reassuringly. “You’re very… strong. People always want strong.”

Shelby gives her an odd look.

* * *

“I don’t wanna work here without Alyssa,” Rachel says. “That’d just be like loading trucks without any meaning, you know?”

* * *

“I couldn’t be happier,” Barry tells the camera. “I’m going to take the severance and retire. I’m going to travel. I really couldn’t be happier.”

* * *

Trent strides out of his office, already wearing his coat. He looks determined. “Alright, listen up. Some of you may have heard some rumors about the branch closing.”

“Like when you said the branch was closing?” Barry snarks.

“But I am not going to take this lying down.” Trent ignores him. “I have a plan, and I am going to save our jobs, so just hang in there. Let’s go, Greg.”

Greg punches the air, gathering his things together. “Yes!”

“Oh, good, you’re bringing Greg,” Alyssa says dryly.

“Yes. This might get ugly,” Trent says. “I’m gonna need backup.”

* * *

Dee Dee arrives at the Stamford branch and meets with Josh in his office. Emma has been called into this meeting, too. She looks confused.

“So, Josh will be running what is now called Dunder Mifflin Northeast,” Dee Dee explains. “Which is all the offices north of Stamford. And Emma, if you want the job, you’ll be his number two.”

Emma’s eyes widen. “Wow. Uh, sure. Absolutely.”

“Excuse me, Dee Dee, I’m gonna have to stop you there,” Josh says with a sigh. “I… will not be taking the job.”

Dee Dee frowns. “Why not?”

“As of today, I have accepted a senior management position at Staples.”

“Today.” Dee Dee’s expression is hard. Emma shrinks back into her chair. “You leveraged your position with us into a different offer? Damn it, Josh, this whole restructuring thing was based around keeping you.”

“I’m sorry, alright?” Josh doesn’t sound very sorry. “It’s done.”

“I gotta make some calls,” Dee Dee growls, scraping her chair back and standing.

* * *

Emma sucks in her cheeks. “Say what you will about Trent Oliver. But he would _never_ do that.”

* * *

Trent and Greg are waiting outside Dee Dee’s house, ready to convince her.

“Do you know what you’re going to say to her when she shows up?” Greg asks.

Trent scoffs and smiles at him. “I will simply improvise. Speak from the heart.”

“Bad idea.”

* * *

Carrie makes a questioning face at Emma through the glass walls of Josh’s office. Emma just shrugs back, but she snaps to attention when Dee Dee re-enters the room. She puts her phone back in her pocket, sighing heavily.

“So, we’re still scrambling here, but it looks like Scranton is going to absorb Stamford,” she says. “And I know that you just left there a few months ago, but we would like to offer you the number two position at that branch.”

“Wow, thank you,” Emma says. She frowns, looking down at her shoes. “It’s just, I’m not sure if I, um… Well, to be honest with you, Dee Dee, I have a few unpleasant memories of Scranton.”

Dee Dee huffs. “Trent?”

“No, no, just… um, personal stuff.” Emma tries to keep things vague. “And I’m not really ready to revisit that, I don’t think.”

“Ah.” Dee Dee appears to look right through her. “Well, please think about it. We will do whatever we can to get you to stay.”

“Okay,” Emma says quietly.

* * *

“I’m kind of okay with it, actually,” Alyssa tells Rachel, who blinks in surprise before recovering.

“Oh, that’s good. That’s great.” She shrugs, forced-casual. “Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

“Well, I’ve got art school,” Alyssa says.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” Rachel says. “You should totally do that.”

“I am,” Alyssa says. “Already. I started a while ago.”

Rachel is silent for a moment. “Wow, that’s… terrific. Well, cool. Glad you’re doing that.”

She leaves, drumming her fingers on Alyssa’s desk as she goes, and Alyssa sighs and rubs at her temples once she’s gone.

* * *

Dee Dee, looking unusually frazzled, enters the Scranton office bullpen.

“Where’s Trent?” she sighs.

“He’s not here,” Alyssa says. “I don’t know where he is.”

“What—” Dee Dee looks around at the office, who are moping, and frowns. “What’s going on here?”

“We know the branch is closing,” Angie says dully. “Trent told us.”

“Oh, God.” Dee Dee slams her purse down on Alyssa’s desk. “Okay, you know what, everybody? I’m sure there’s a better way to do this, but I’ve driven something like four hundred miles today and I’m completely exhausted so I’m just going to tell you.”

Everyone looks at her with interest as she continues.

“Your branch is not closing. Stamford is closing.” Dee Dee rubs her forehead. The camera pans to Alyssa as realization begins to creep in, before switching back to Dee Dee. “For the time being, it seems that all of your jobs are safe.”

Kaylee immediately hugs Shelby. They both sink into it for a moment before pushing each other away. Angie latches onto a disgruntled Barry, squeezing him happily. Alyssa stares at Dee Dee.

“Is it because of Trent? Did he actually do something?”

“Well, reasons are not important,” Dee Dee says hurriedly. “Would you just call him, please? Wherever he is. Tell him.”

“Sure,” Alyssa says. “Um, Dee Dee? Do you know… is anyone coming back to Scranton?”

Dee Dee gives her a piercing look. “Back?”

“Coming to Scranton?” Alyssa’s eyes are a little wide as she recovers. “Coming to Scranton?”

“We don’t know,” Dee Dee says. “Probably a few.”

She leaves, and Alyssa nods, almost to herself.

* * *

Trent and Greg are still waiting outside Dee Dee’s house.

“Maybe we should take a break. Get some food,” Trent suggests.

“Negative,” Greg sighs. “We could miss her.”

“I’m really hungry.”

Trent’s phone rings. Greg looks at him.

“Who is it?”

“The office,” Trent says.

“Are you gonna get it?”

Trent shakes his head. “No. Not until I have some good news for them.”

* * *

“Will you be transferring to Scranton, Big Tuna?” Nick asks.

Emma looks up from her work. “Oh, um, I don’t know. Dee Dee offered me the job, but I haven’t really decided yet.”

“Yeah, well, even if I don’t get transferred, I’ll probably be fine,” Nick says decisively. “Cornell has an extensive alumni network, so… We look out for each other.”

Emma stares at him blankly. “Where’d you go to college?”

“Cornell.” Nick glares at her like she’s an idiot.

“Oh,” Emma says. Her face remains impassive. “That’s good.”

Nick sighs, turning around to face his computer, and Emma smiles to herself.

“I’ll just be better when I find out if I actually have a job or not,” Carrie says.

Emma snorts. “New York City is forty-five minutes down the road from here. You’d really give that up and move to Scranton?”

Carrie smirks at her, but she looks a little disappointed. “Maybe I would.”

* * *

Barry looks glum. “Well, it was nice to have those few hours when I thought it was over. Now I have something to look forward to when it happens for real.”

* * *

“I was looking forward to the severance and some time off…” Alyssa trails off, biting her lip. “But finding another job is such a pain. There’d be a new boss, and I’d have to learn everything all over again, and… I guess there are reasons to stay.”

* * *

Emma switches off her desk light, shrugging on her blazer at the end of the day and turning to Carrie. She looks thoughtful.

“I think I am gonna take that job,” she says. “And Scranton? It’s not that bad. So, if they offer you a job there… I think you should take it.”

Carrie nods, smiling brightly at Emma. “Okay, yeah. Maybe I will.”

* * *

“Yeah, I’m—I’m happy she said that,” Carrie says in her interview, leaning against a pillar in the office. “I mean, I don’t think she’s into me or anything. But… I’m kind of into her.”

She grins bashfully.

“So… there you go.”

* * *

It’s night, and Trent sits with Greg on the curb outside Dee Dee’s house. He sighs.

“What are we still doing here? It’s over.”

Greg stands up, fishing his phone out of his pocket as he walks towards the car. Trent collapses backwards, putting his hands over his face. His voice is choked.

“I’m such a stupid idiot. I let everybody down. Everybody hates me.”

“Oh my God!” Greg yells. He’s gaping at his phone. “Stamford is closed! Trent, we’re not closed. Stamford is closed!”

Trent scrambles to his feet, overjoyed. “We did it!”

“We did it!”

Greg tackles him in a hug. They celebrate wildly, screaming and whooping, and then once their delirious laughter settles down, Trent’s expression turns confused.

“Wait, how did we do it?”

“I don’t know,” Greg says. “I have no idea.”

* * *

“Got the food?” Trent asks as Alyssa walks in, laden down with groceries. “Awesome. Set it up in the conference room. Make it look nice for our new guests.”

* * *

“Yes, I’m in a good mood today,” Alyssa says with a grin, putting the bags down on the table. “I’m excited to meet all of the new people, and to see my old friend again, definitely.”

She bites her lip, shrugging in what she probably thinks is a casual manner.

“That’s always a thing that makes people happy. To have an old friend back.”

* * *

“Hi,” Carrie says, walking into the Scranton office with a nervous smile on her face.

Alyssa stands up to greet her, shaking her hand. “I’m Alyssa.”

“Carrie. I love your sweater.”

“Oh, thanks,” Alyssa says, glancing down at the knitted grey sweater she’s wearing. “My mom made it for me.”

“Really? That’s so cool.” Carrie grins at her. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to knit.”

“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” Trent interrupts them, handing Carrie a little gift bag. “Hello, I’m your boss, Trent Oliver.”

* * *

Nick stands in the Scranton parking lot. It seems that he, too, is transferring. He gives the camera a confident smirk.

“I’ll be the number two guy here in Scranton in six weeks. How? Name repetition, personality mirroring, and never breaking off a handshake.” He crosses his arms. “I’m always thinking one step ahead, like a… carpenter. That makes stairs.”

* * *

The door opens, and Emma walks in. Alyssa gives the camera a quick gleeful look, before Trent steps in with an enormous smile on his face.

“No way. Get her out of here. We don’t want any of this kind in here.”

He playfully ruffles Emma’s hair.

“Hi, Trent,” Emma says.

Trent turns his attention to another new employee, and Emma steps forwards, approaching Alyssa’s desk with a shy smile on her face.

“Hi, I’m Emma,” she says. “I’m new here.”

Alyssa is already out of her seat and moving closer. She throws her arms around Emma’s neck and hugs her tightly. “Oh my God, it’s really you.”

Emma laughs softly, hugging her back for a moment before they pull away. “I was just doing a little joke there about how we’ve never met and—”

“I know,” Alyssa interrupts. “I don’t care.”

“Awesome, good to be back,” Emma snorts. “Uh, the place looks really good.”

Alyssa’s voice is soft. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too.”

* * *

“Where do I stand with Alyssa?” Emma repeats, back in the Scranton branch conference room for her interview. “Um… no idea. I mean, we’re friends. Always have been friends.”

She purses her lips briefly.

“Um, that is where we stand.”

* * *

Emma is about to set her things down at her old desk when Greg greets her in his own way.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in from Stamford.”

“Greg, we’ve seen each other at gran’s like four times.”

“Fact: I am older. I am wiser.” Greg ignores her. “Do not mess with me.”

“Okay. Sounds good,” Emma says, eyebrows raised slightly. She quickly glances up at his forehead, and Greg’s eyes narrow.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emma says lightly, looking at Greg’s forehead again.

“Do I have a spider on my forehead?” Greg asks. “Why are you looking at my forehead?”

Emma doesn’t break her gaze. “I’m not.”

“Meet my eye line, Emma.” Greg’s voice is demanding.

“I am.”

Greg gets visibly more frustrated. “Stop acting like an idiot!”

“Okay.”

Greg glares at her, sloping off and muttering under his breath, and Marcus comes up to a grinning Emma.

“Hey, welcome back,” he says, putting his satchel down on the chair that Emma had been about to put her things on. “So…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you sitting here now?” Emma looks a little confused.

“Yeah,” Marcus says.

Emma puffs out her cheeks, glancing at the camera as she slowly walks around to where a new desk has been set up. It’s opposite Greg and perpendicular to Ryan and, when Emma sits down, her back is now facing Alyssa at reception.

* * *

“Hey, Kaylee, check this out,” Nick says, leaning back in his chair. “It’s my new screensaver.”

It’s a picture of a cat dressed as a cowboy. Kaylee loves it.

“Oh!”

“Do you like it?”

Kaylee glances at him. “I do like it, actually.”

“Thank you,” Nick says. He looks at her for a moment. “You have… such a pretty smile, by the way.”

Shelby glares daggers at Nick from the other side of a potted plant.

* * *

“Nick Boomer is out there laying on the charm.” Nick grins smugly.

* * *

"I don't like Nick," Shelby says flatly. "Seems like a real [bleep]."

* * *

“So, uh, when do I get to hear everything?” Alyssa asks Emma, leaning casually against the wall in the break room. “Are you still getting unpacked? Or you wanna grab a coffee or something after work?”

“Oh, um… tonight?” Emma looks down at the bottle of water in her hands. “I can’t. I’m just still getting settled.”

“Oh, yeah, no,” Alyssa says, brushing it off. “You know, whenever.”

“Okay.”

Trent walks into the break room, freezing in his tracks. “O…kay. Sorry to interrupt.”

“Nope, you’re not interrupting anything,” Emma says quickly. She looks at Trent, a warning in her eyes. “Don’t.”

Trent makes a quick exit again. Alyssa giggles.

“I, um, should probably get back to work,” Emma says, clearing her throat.

Alyssa’s smile slips off her face. “Yeah, no, me too.”

“Alright,” Emma says. She walks away, leaving Alyssa looking troubled.

That look only deepens when she sees Emma swat playfully at Carrie on her way back to her desk, the two of them grinning like they have an inside joke.

* * *

“The day’s going fine,” Alyssa says. “It’s been a little chaotic, but it’s fine. It’s great.”

Her eyes dart to the side.

“A lot of distractions, but it’s good.”

* * *

Emma gets into her car at the end of the day, on the phone with Carrie, whose voice comes through loud and clear.

“You wanna meet up for a drink in about an hour?” she asks. “I could sure use one after everything that’s happened recently."

Emma considers for a moment. “Yeah, sure. Sounds good.” She starts to say more, but spots Alyssa walking past her car. “Hey, can I give you a call right back?”

“Sure,” Carrie says.

“Okay, thanks.” Emma hangs up, getting out of her car and walking towards Alyssa. “Hey!”

“Hey,” Alyssa says.

“I thought you’d already left,” Emma says.

“Uh… no. I just had some other stuff I had to do.” Alyssa stops and turns to her. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing,” Emma says. “I just feel bad. I feel like things were a little weird today or something.”

A muscle in Alyssa’s jaw twitches almost imperceptibly. “What do you mean?”

“I just think I should tell you, um…” Emma scratches the side of her neck. “I’ve sort of, maybe, started seeing someone.”

“Oh.” Alyssa shrugs a little jerkily. “That’s totally cool. You can do whatever you want.”

Emma seems a little surprised. “Oh. Okay, uh, cool.”

“We’re friends,” Alyssa says firmly. Her voice softens a little. “We’ll always be friends.”

“Right.”

Alyssa turns to go. “It’s good to have you back, Emma.”

“Yeah,” Emma murmurs, turning away and walking back to her own car. “Good to be back.”

She gets into her car, a frown creasing her forehead as she sits there for a long moment. Alyssa’s engine switches on, but Emma just sits there for a while longer, not making any kind of move.


	11. back from vacation/the return (+travelling salesmen/business school/cocktails)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this chapter is a mash up of quite a few episodes in the midseason of s3, but pulls from episodes 3x11, 3x12, 3x13, 3x16 and 3x17. just to spice things up, i've also added a couple little original things in there to break it up and rework some stuff to fit the characters i gave certain storylines to!
> 
> enjoy!

The camera films Emma and Carrie in the kitchen – from the bullpen – and watches as Emma leans against the counter while Carrie pours coffee into her mug. Neither of them looks particularly happy.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Emma asks.

Carrie just shakes her head. “No.”

She walks out back into the bullpen, leaving Emma standing there a little awkwardly.

* * *

“I still haven’t found an apartment,” Carrie explains, standing at the copier. “It’s been two months. I’m living in an AirBnb. Yesterday I saw a ‘for rent’ sign down the street from Emma, and she said she didn’t think it would be such a good idea.”

She sucks her lips into her mouth, looking annoyed.

“She said it would be like we were living together. In _different_ houses.”

* * *

“Hey.”

Alyssa walks into the break room with the vending machines, stopping to get a snack, but she pauses momentarily when she sees Emma sat at a table staring blankly off into space. Emma jerks out of her reverie.

“Hey.”

Alyssa turns to face her. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” Alyssa presses again after a pause.

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay,” Emma says, plastering a smile on her face that doesn’t reach her eyes. Alyssa just waits and, eventually, Emma sighs. “I’m just in a stupid fight with Carrie.”

“Oh,” Alyssa says. She lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug. “You wanna talk about it?”

Emma looks at her in surprise. “Really?”

Alyssa gives her a little smile, inclining her head to give Emma the okay.

“Okay, so... we’ve been dating, what, two months?” Emma scratches her head. “And I just think that her moving to the same street might be a little close, you know? A little too much.”

Alyssa quirks her lips to the side. “Hm.”

“Hm, what?”

“Well, how far away does she live now?” Alyssa asks. “Ten minutes?”

Emma sighs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Honestly… I think you should go easy on her,” Alyssa says quietly.

A troubled look crosses Alyssa’s face for a moment, but it’s gone as soon as Emma clears her throat.

“Hey,” Emma says. “Thank you. A lot.”

Alyssa’s eyes meet hers for a moment before they drop to the floor. “Oh. Don’t worry about it.”

* * *

“No, I didn’t mind helping Emma with her problem.” Alyssa’s voice is a little strained, even though she’s clearly trying to keep it light. “That’s what friends do. I help… Angie, all the time. Just yesterday I untangled a piece of tape from her hair.”

* * *

Kaylee looks at Shelby’s empty desk sadly, eyes flickering up to meet the camera before they dart back to her own computer. She clears her throat and starts typing.

* * *

“Shelby’s away visiting some relatives in Mexico – family emergency – and, yeah, I guess I miss her,” Kaylee says, forced-casual. “It’s hard to get all the work done here with two accountants, is all. Especially when one of them is Kevin.”

* * *

“I think I owe you one.” Carrie comes up to Alyssa in the conference room later in the day, her voice low and her smile warm.

Alyssa blinks. “Huh?”

“For talking sense into Nolan,” Carrie says. “The AirBnb thing was starting to get a little depressing.”

“Oh…” Realization passes across Alyssa’s face. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I mean, she was being a little… I just think she doesn’t want people to think she’s calling for a U-Haul.”

Carrie snorts. “Yeah. But, thanks. Seriously.”

“Sure.”

Alyssa smiles at her, but it fades when Carrie happily walks away.

* * *

Sobbing can be heard in a hallway.

The camera slowly and shakily rounds the corner, revealing Alyssa sat on a bench somewhere in the maze of hallways in the building with her head in her hands, crying in earnest. Her shoulders shake with the failed effort of staying quiet. There’s a hitch in her breath when footsteps approach.

Greg stops in his tracks as soon as he sees Alyssa.

“Who did this to you?” he asks immediately. “Where are they?”

Alyssa looks up. “What? No, it’s not…” Greg looks around for any threat of danger, his eyes hard. Alyssa just shakes her head unconvincingly. “It’s nothing.”

Greg looks at her, seeming a little confused, but he slowly slides his blazer off as if to drape it over Alyssa’s shoulders. Alyssa blinks up at him, and Greg instead ties the sleeves around his own waist.

“It’s hot in here,” he explains.

“Yeah.” Alyssa sniffs, her head dropping once more. Greg carefully pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and offers it to her. She takes it with a small smile. “Thanks.”

Greg sits down next to her on the bench, his movements awkward and cautious. He’s very much out of his depth. Alyssa gives a weak, watery chuckle.

“You don’t need to stay here.”

“I know,” Greg says immediately. He puts a tentative hand on Alyssa’s shoulder, sighing a little when she starts sobbing again as he thinks of what to say. “So… you’re PMSing pretty bad, huh?”

Alyssa cries into the handkerchief.

* * *

Angie is driving Carrie back to the office after a successful sales call. There’s comfortable silence in the car for a little while, and then Carrie turns to Angie with a smile.

“Thanks for today,” she says. “It was fun.”

“Yeah.” Angie grins back. “I really enjoy spending time with you. You’re a very nice person.”

Carrie beams, visibly relieved, like she hadn’t expected the Scranton employees to like her even though she’s been working with them for over two months.

“Thank you.”

“And I’m glad you’re with Emma,” Angie says, sighing. “Poor kid was hung up on Alyssa for such a long time, according to Trent.”

Carrie’s face drops. She looks at Angie in shock as she continues.

“Honestly, I didn’t think Emma would ever get over her.”

Carrie slowly turns back to face the front. She looks deflated. “That’s nice.”

* * *

Emma sits down across from Carrie in a coffee shop. Her smile is bright, but it fades a little into confusion when Carrie doesn’t return it. She takes a deep breath.

“So, let me ask you a question.”

“Okay,” Emma says.

Carrie’s brow furrows slightly. “Did you ever have a thing for Alyssa?”

“Alyssa?” Emma’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Did I ever have a thing for her? No.” She takes a sip of her coffee, looking a little nervous. “Why, did she say something?”

“I moved here from Connecticut,” Carrie says plainly, and Emma sighs.

“Okay, here’s the—” she rubs at her temple. “I had a crush on her before I left. And… I told her about it, and she didn’t feel the same way. So, it didn’t amount to anything, and I left.”

Carrie still looks unconvinced. She seems uncharacteristically insecure. Emma covers her hand with her own on the table between them.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” she insists. “Okay?”

Slowly, Carrie smiles. “Okay.”

* * *

“Check it out.” Nick holds up his cell phone, which is playing an acapella version of ‘Rockin’ Robin’ very, very loudly as its ringtone. He looks at Emma with a grin on his face. Emma’s eyes are dull as she regards him.

“Is that you singing?”

Nick beams proudly. “All four parts.”

“Nice job.”

“Thank you, Big Tuna,” Nick says. He lets the phone keep ringing, and Emma looks at him strangely.

“Are you going to… answer it?” she asks.

Nick’s grin somehow widens as he holds up his desk phone. “I called it myself. Just thought you’d get a kick out of it.”

Emma grits her teeth. “Yikes.”

“Sidenote, I’m really happy to be working directly under you, even though you’re younger and have less experience,” Nick says. “So… here’s to the future. Nick Boomer and Big Tuna.”

* * *

“She’s been gone a month,” Kaylee says. Her eyes are watery. “What kind of emergency is it?”

* * *

“Hey, boss,” Nick says, coming into Trent’s office.

Trent, shockingly, is doing paperwork. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Nick approaches Trent’s desk. He lingers for a moment, silent, before groaning theatrically. “Man. TGI-Wednesday, am I right?”

“Yep.”

Nick picks up one of the toys on Trent’s desk, tossing it and catching it repeatedly, and Trent’s narrowed eyes follow his every move.

“Gonna go home, get my beer on,” Nick continues. “What are you doing later, you wanna hang out?”

“Uh… I don’t know. Maybe.” Trent glances at the camera, a clear ‘help me’ expression behind his eyes.

“Ooh, I’ll take that as a ‘maybe’,” Nick says.

* * *

“Things are going pretty good,” Nick tells the camera. He’s waiting outside the men’s room, nodding his head to the door. “Getting lots of face time with the boss.”

* * *

“I caught a Big Tuna!” Nick pretends to reel an irritated Emma in.

Emma stands, ignoring Nick’s miming, and goes to Alyssa’s desk. Alyssa looks up at her in mild surprise, a mask descending over her features as has so often been the case over the past month.

“Want to pull a prank on Nick?” Emma asks, inclining her head to Nick, who has now started to sing ‘Zombie’.

“Oh, I’m kind of in the middle of—” Alyssa puts down her paperwork immediately, dropping the pretense. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, good.” Emma smiles at her. “Stay right here.”

Emma takes a pencil holder and walks towards Nick’s desk, spying his phone on the edge and tripping over her own feet just as she reaches him. Pencils go everywhere and Emma falls to her knees, swiping Nick’s phone onto the carpeted floor as she goes. Nick laughs loudly.

“Careful there, Tuna!”

“Sorry,” Emma groans, scooping up the pencils. She slips Nick’s phone into her pocket. “God, that was embarrassing.”

“I’ll say,” Nick snorts. “Looks like someone put on her clown shoes this morning.”

Emma shrugs, bringing the pencil holder back to Alyssa’s desk. She hands them over and subtly brings Nick’s phone out of her pocket again. She carefully places it on Alyssa’s desk behind the reception placard.

“Any messages?” she asks casually.

“Nope.” Alyssa plays along.

Emma pulls a face. “Weird.”

As she leaves, Alyssa quickly pockets an oblivious Nick’s phone.

* * *

Trent has his head on the table when Emma walks into the kitchen. Emma’s looking up at the ceiling with a smirk on her face, but then her attention snaps to Trent, and she looks a little bemused. Trent sighs dramatically. Emma grabs her drink out of the fridge and turns to go. Trent’s voice stops her.

“I’m not fine. And, no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright,” Emma says.

“Okay, fine,” Trent says quickly. “What do you think of Nick?”

Emma hums under her breath. “Um…”

“Because on paper, Nick and I should be best buds,” Trent says. “We even have the same top ten all-time favorite movie list, down to the number.”

“Nick’s a yes man,” Emma snorts.

Trent shakes his head. “Not all the time. Sometimes I say I don’t like something and he says he doesn’t either.”

“Right.” Emma gives the camera an amused look. “Trent, he’ll always agree with whatever you say. He did the same with Josh in Stamford.”

“If he did that with Josh, he could be doing that with me,” Trent says, realization dawning.

* * *

“One night, when I was five, my mom was trying to tuck me in. She tried to give me as raspberry on my tummy, you know—” Trent blows a raspberry on the back of his hand to demonstrate, “—and I tried to crawl away. What happened was… she had her eyes closed and she grabbed me, and she kissed me on my butt.”

He pauses for a moment, letting it sink in.

“And it was just the worst. So I know what it’s like to have your butt kissed. Literally.” Trent shakes his head at the camera. “It’s terrible, and it better not be what Nick’s doing.”

* * *

Nick’s acapella ‘Rockin’ Robin’ starts playing, a little muffled but still loud, and Nick frowns as he starts looking for his phone. Emma taps her pen along with the beat of the song. Nick keeps searching, getting more and more confused.

“Has anyone seen my cell phone?” he asks the office at large. People mostly ignore him. “Because someone is calling me right now. There is a call.”

Emma slowly turns around to face reception. Alyssa has her desk phone up to her ear, her lips pressed together tightly to keep herself from laughing.

* * *

The camera watches Alyssa and Kaylee in the hallway, filming from the other side of a glass door.

“I miss her,” Kaylee says miserably.

Alyssa nods in understanding. “Shelby.”

“No. Judy Garland.” Kaylee’s voice is sarcastic. Alyssa rolls her eyes, turning to leave, but Kaylee grabs her wrist. “Sorry. I’m just worried.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Alyssa says. “We’d have heard by now if she was in any trouble.”

* * *

Emma sits at her desk, dialling a number and holding her phone up to her ear, as if she’s about to make a sales call. But sure enough it’s ‘Rockin’ Robin’ that starts playing a moment later. Nick slams his hands down on his desk.

“Okay, what is going on?”

Emma gives him a confused look. “What?”

“Where is my _freaking_ phone?” Nick stands up.

Carrie’s eyes slowly go up to the ceiling tiles as understanding begins to cross her face. Emma smirks innocently at Nick.

“You know what, maybe it’s in the ceiling.”

“Maybe you’re in the ceiling,” Nick bites back.

“Okay.”

Nick tries to open one of Angie’s desk drawers, but she slams it back shut with a glare. Nick glowers at her. “I don’t trust you, Angie.”

Carrie glances at Alyssa, who’s grinning as she watches the back of Emma’s head. Emma shakes her head slightly like she knows Alyssa’s eyes are on her. Carrie’s lips quirk down a little.

* * *

Emma grins at the camera. “Ceiling tiles in the kitchen sure are loose. Good thing I can throw pretty far.”

* * *

“Listen, I forgot to tell you about the plan for this Saturday,” Nick says hurriedly, trying to catch Trent on his way out. “You, me, bar, beers, buzzed, wings, shots, drunk.”

“No. I don’t want to do any of that,” Trent says, putting his coat on.

Nick blinks, recovering quickly. “Duh. Which is why I was joking it.”

“No, stop. Just stop,” Trent says. His eyes bore into Nick’s. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Fine, I’ll just… I’ll sit at my desk and be quiet.” Nick's gaze hardens suddenly. “Sorry I annoyed you with my friendship.”

‘Rockin’ Robin’ starts playing. The camera zooms in on Emma in the background, phone up to her ear again. Nick’s jaw tightens as he turns to face the office at large. Alyssa keeps her eyes firmly down as his voice rises.

“And I’m also sorry that a lot of people here for some reason think it’s funny to steal someone’s personal property and hide it from them!” Nick starts spitting when he speaks. “Here’s a little news flash. It’s not funny!”

And, with a shout, Nick turns and punches the drywall between Trent’s office and the conference room.

Emma, eyes wide as she looks at the camera, hangs up the phone. The whole office stare at Nick, shocked into silence. Nick pulls his hand from the wall, leaving a hole behind, before taking several deep breaths and turning back to face everyone with a nervous half-chuckle.

“That… was an overreaction.” He clears his throat. “Gonna go to the break room. Anyone want anything?”

* * *

“Oh my God,” Emma mutters, poking at the hole Nick’s fist left. “That’s half-inch drywall.”

Alyssa turns to her. “I think we broke his brain.”

Emma snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth, and Alyssa laughs at her. The camera pans to Carrie, who watches them with suspicion in her eyes.

“Alyssa, it’s not funny,” Emma scolds weakly.

* * *

Just before home time, the door opens, and everyone’s heads turn. Trent walks in, but he’s not alone.

Shelby is standing next to him.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Trent says with a grin. “May I present… Miss Shelby Gonzales!”

Kaylee walks towards them, drawn as if in a trance. Her eyes roam Shelby’s face like she’s not convinced she’s really there. Shelby looks fine – no worse for wear than when she’d left except for some slight bags under her eyes – and her eyes are fixed on Kaylee’s.

Stopping in front of her, Kaylee seems unsure of what to do, given that they’re in front of everyone. Eventually, she holds her hand out for Shelby to shake. Shelby takes it with soft eyes.

“Welcome back.” Kaylee’s voice is quiet.

“Thank you, Kaylee,” Shelby says. They keep shaking hands, looking at each other with tears starting to brim in their eyes, until Trent clears his throat.

“Okay, Shelby, you can let go of her hand.”

Shelby blinks, and drops Kaylee’s hand. “Right.”

Trent looks around at everyone. “How about a little impromptu party? To welcome home one of our own?”

Everyone cheers.

* * *

“I was, um, taking care of my abuelo,” Shelby admits. “He wasn’t doing so good for a while there, but he’s okay now. I… really missed this place.”

* * *

At the party, Carrie takes the seat next to Emma in the conference room. They’re sat side by side, and Carrie only looks at her out of the corner of her eye. She seems upset. A little resigned.

“Do you still have feelings for her?” she asks.

Emma is silent for a long moment, looking down at her hands. She nods slowly. “Yes.”

Carrie swallows heavily, blinking back tears. Without a word, she stands up and walks back out of the conference room. Emma doesn’t move. She just keeps staring at her hands.

* * *

“Trent had a little chat with corporate,” Nick says, standing by his car in an unfamiliar parking lot. “And they decided to send me to management training alongside work. Anger management, technically, but still… management material.”

* * *

“Just wanted to check that everyone’s still on for my spring art show?” Alyssa announces. “It’s, um, just in a little studio with the people from my class, but… it would be nice if people came.”

Emma glances at Carrie, whose jaw is tight as she shakes her head 'no', and sighs. Everyone else mostly ignores Alyssa’s announcement. Alyssa bites her lip and sits down at her desk.

* * *

"Carrie and i are working through things," Emma says. "Still."

* * *

The little studio is milling with people. Alyssa stands by her watercolors, most of them images of things from her daily life in the office, talking to an old woman who’s looking at them with thinly veiled disinterest.

“It’s all from the same series, called ‘Impressions’,” she explains.

“Oh,” the old woman says. Alyssa scrambles to say more.

“Not that I would call myself an impressionist, per se.”

“But maybe one day,” the woman says. She sounds a little condescending.

Alyssa smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I hope so.”

She wanders off for a moment to mingle, finding two men looking at her art when she comes back. Her face lights up, and then she hears what they’re saying.

“Yeah, real art takes courage,” one says, eyeing Alyssa’s paintings critically. “And honesty.”

“Well, I don’t think that those are this artist’s strong points,” the other sighs. “Shame.”

“That’s why this is… motel art.”

The camera zooms in on Alyssa, who looks crestfallen, and a little thoughtful.

* * *

Earlier in the day, Alyssa is doing her interview in the conference room. “I hope everyone shows up.”

* * *

There are significantly less people in the studio than there had been earlier. Alyssa stands by her collection, fiddling with her sleeves. She’s alone. She checks her watch, sighing a little, before turning and beginning to take down her pictures sadly.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late,” a male voice comes from behind her, and the camera pans to see Trent hurrying in, a little out of breath. “Traffic was a nightmare and I had to race across town and… you get it.”

“Oh, hi, Trent,” Alyssa says quietly. She looks as if she’s bracing herself for whatever Trent’s going to say, but Trent’s eyes just widen as he looks at the paintings.

“Wow!” He steps closer. “You did these? Freehand?”

“Yep.”

“My God, these could be tracings,” Trent muses. “Oh, look at this one.” He points to a watercolor of a plain gray building in front of a blue sky. “It’s the office! You nailed it.”

Alyssa looks at him in surprise, her wide eyes getting a little watery, and she opens and closes her mouth a couple of times.

Trent is still staring at the painting. “How much?”

“What… What do you mean?”

“I don’t see a, uh, price,” Trent says, glancing at Alyssa.

Alyssa blinks. “You want to buy it?”

“Well, yeah,” Trent says, like it’s obvious. “We have to have it for the office! I mean, there’s my window, and there’s my car.” He gasps, pointing to the car next to it in the painting. “Is that your car?”

Alyssa nods. Trent sighs happily, gazing at Alyssa’s art.

“That is our building,” he declares, looking at Alyssa with a kind smile. “Alyssa, I’m really proud of you.”

Alyssa, with tears in her eyes, steps forwards and hugs Trent. She closes her eyes and Trent – who looks a little confused – gently wraps his arms around her waist and hugs her back.

“Thank you,” Alyssa whispers.

* * *

“I’ve decided that I’m going to be more honest,” Alyssa declares. “I’m going to start telling people what I want directly. Hopefully.”

* * *

Everyone’s at a bar after work, including the people from the warehouse and some people's non-work friends, and Rachel is playing a game where she has to guess who’s hiding a coin under their hand. She glances between Alyssa and Barry, the last two she’s narrowed it down to, with a smirk playing across her lips. She taps Barry’s hand.

“Not here.”

Barry lifts his hand to reveal nothing, and Rachel cheers as Alyssa’s hand rises from the table to reveal the silver coin. Alyssa groans as Rachel takes a sip of her beer.

“It’s no use, Alyssa, I can read you like a book!”

“Oh yeah?” Alyssa looks at her with a tipsy grin.

Rachel laughs. “Yeah, you can’t keep anything from me!”

Alyssa looks at the camera quickly, the smile fading as she quickly glances in Emma’s direction.

* * *

Kaylee’s eyes dart around the bar as she pulls Shelby by the hand into the ladies’ room.

* * *

“I need to tell you something,” Alyssa says to Rachel. The two of them are sitting at the bar by themselves. Emma and Carrie have already left, as have most of the others, and Rachel grins at Alyssa like she’s won a prize just by the virtue of Alyssa staying.

“Of course, Lyssy,” she says.

“I… please don’t call me that,” Alyssa says. “I hate that nickname. I’ve always hated that nickname.”

Shock passes across Rachel’s features. “Oh. Sorry. Was that… what you wanted to tell me?”

“No.” Alyssa shakes her head with a sigh. “Just listen, okay?”

Rachel nods. “Sure.”

“Remember that casino night about a month before we were supposed to get married?” Alyssa takes a deep breath. “I kissed Emma.”

“What?” Rachel’s expression shifts.

“She told me how she felt, and I… I guess I had feelings too, and we kissed.” Alyssa’s voice is quiet. “I just felt like I needed to be honest with you about it even though we aren’t together anymore and I’m really sorry that I didn’t tell you when it happened, but—”

“Emma came onto you?” Rachel interrupts angrily.

“Just listen,” Alyssa pleads.

“No, I am listening!” Rachel’s voice gets louder and louder. “That’s the problem, I’m listening!”

Alyssa’s expression hardens. “Don’t yell.”

“Don’t yell?!” Rachel shouts. She takes her beer bottle and throws it at the wall, where it smashes into a million tiny pieces.

Alyssa just shakes her head and gets up from her seat. “Stay away from me, Rachel. Forever.”

Rachel growls under her breath, glaring hard at the back of Alyssa’s head as Alyssa walks away from her without another word.

* * *

Rachel sits with her back against the outside wall of the bar, one of her non-work buddies standing beside her. Her expression is stony as she scoffs. “I’m gonna kill Emma Nolan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting close to the end of the season! next chapter: the continuation of rachel's threat...


	12. the negotiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its a short one but i hope you enjoy! based off of epsiode 3x18

The camera watches from the conference window as Rachel paces the parking lot back and forth at the end of the day. She looks furious. Inside, however, the employees of the office are oblivious.

Carrie leans against Emma’s desk. “So, do you wanna see it or not?”

“I don’t know,” Emma muses. “I just feel like with the Friday night crowds…”

“Oh my God, you’re, like, agoraphobic,” Carrie laughs.

“Agoraphobic? Really?”

“Yeah, you would rather sit on your couch and watch Netflix than go out to a movie with your awesome girlfriend,” Carrie says.

Alyssa looks up from her paperwork with sad eyes before she notices the camera and looks down again.

Emma stands up with a grin. “You’re absolutely correct.”

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” Carrie says. “You’re gonna suck it up—”

“Here we go,” Emma teases.

“And we’re gonna go to dinner.”

“Okay.”

Carrie’s shaking her head even as she laughs. “And then we’re gonna go to the movies.”

“Sounds good.” Emma gathers up her stuff. Behind her, Rachel storms into the bullpen.

“Hey, Nolan!”

Emma and Carrie both whirl around, identical confused looks on their faces. Alyssa’s mouth falls open; she looks between Emma and Rachel like she doesn’t know what to do to diffuse a worsening situation. Rachel glances at Alyssa, her expression hardening, and then she makes a decision.

She lunges at Emma.

“Rachel!” Alyssa yells.

Emma pushes Carrie out of the way and screws her eyes shut tight. Rachel grabs Emma’s arms, fire in her eyes, but then she recoils as she gets pepper-sprayed in the face from out of frame. Rachel stumbles backwards with a scream, tripping over her own feet and falling to the floor.

Everyone starts coughing, their eyes closed, as the pepper spray begins to affect them too. Rachel is still on the floor, groaning in pain. The camera pans to reveal Greg standing at his desk, hand still outstretched as he points the pepper spray at her.

“Alyssa, please call security,” he instructs, wincing and squeezing his own eyes shut for a minute.

* * *

Greg sits in the conference room with pepper spray-induced tears streaming down his cheeks. His eyes are red, but he’s still delivering his interview.

“Every day for eight years, I have brought pepper spray into this office to protect myself and my fellow employees,” he says. “And every day for eight years, people have laughed at me. Well, who’s laughing now?”

He screws up his face in discomfort and pain.

* * *

“No need for consternation,” Trent promises, sat in the conference room with Sheldon and on speaker-phone to Dee Dee Allen. “Everything is under control.”

“Trent, last Friday one of your employees attacked another employee in your office,” Dee Dee stresses.

“It was a crime of passion, Dee Dee. Not a disgruntled employee.” He glances up at the camera. “Everyone here is extremely… gruntled.”

Dee Dee sighs. “Is Sheldon there?”

“No,” Trent says.

“I’m here, Dee Dee,” Sheldon says, shooting a glare in Trent’s direction.

“Okay,” Dee Dee says. “What’s the situation?”

“Well, we fired Rachel, obviously,” Sheldon says. “And Emma won’t press charges against Rachel or the company.”

“Thank God.” Dee Dee pauses. “Is everything under control now?”

“Yeppers,” Trent says.

Dee Dee is silent for a moment. “Trent, what did I tell you about ‘yeppers’?”

“I… don’t remember,” Trent says evasively.

“I told you not to say it. Do you remember that?”

“Yesh,” Trent says, snorting under his breath as Dee Dee heaves another sigh.

* * *

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” Alyssa says quietly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I just—I don’t want to comment on what happened.”

She grits her teeth, closing her eyes for a moment.

“It _sucked_.”

* * *

Alyssa watches the back of Emma’s head. It looks like there’s so much she wants to say to her, but she wouldn’t even know where to begin, and Emma’s focused on her work anyway. Alyssa gives her a regretful look and lowers her eyes to her own work.

* * *

“I guess… all things considered…” Emma gives the camera a slightly amused look. “I was really lucky Greg was there. And Rachel was lucky that Greg only used pepper spray, and not the nunchucks or the throwing stars.”

* * *

Emma looks at Greg for a moment, steeling herself before leaning forwards at her desk and addressing him.

“Hey, man, I never got a chance to thank you. For stopping Rachel.” She smiles genuinely at him. “Thank you.”

“’Thank you’ not necessary, and thus not accepted,” Greg says immediately. “I saw someone breaking the law and I interceded.”

Emma’s lips quirk to the side. “Okay. Um… I got you something.”

She pulls out a wrapped gift and offers it to Greg.

“Don’t want it.”

“You don’t know what it is,” Emma says.

“Don’t want it. Won’t open it. Don’t need it. Won’t take it.” Greg’s answer is rapid fire. “Citizens do not accept prizes for being citizens.”

Emma tries again. “How about a gift from one cousin to another?”

Greg just laughs at her.

* * *

“It was a little glass display case for his bobblehead,” Emma explains. “That would’ve made us even, I think. He saves my life. And I get him a box for his desk toy.”

She looks a little troubled.

“Even Steven.”

* * *

“No, don’t call me a hero,” Greg insists. “Do you know who the real heroes are? The guys who wake up every morning and go into their normal jobs, and get a distress call from the commissioner, and take off their glasses and change into capes, and fly around fighting crime. Those are the real heroes.”

* * *

“So, Carrie…” Kevin takes a sip of his coffee. “How do you feel that Rachel tried to kick your girlfriend’s ass over another woman?”

Carrie looks up from the newspaper she’s reading at the table in the corner of the kitchen. “I feel great, Kevin, thank you,” she says sarcastically.

* * *

Carrie sits in the conference room, sighing a little. “When I heard Emma and Alyssa had kissed, my reaction was to have lots of long talks with Emma about our feelings. Rachel just attacked her.”

She pauses, considering.

“I’m not sure which one Emma hated more.”

* * *

Emma walks into the break room, empty but for Alyssa, and heads for the vending machines. She ignores Alyssa’s smile, which falls, and tries to decide what snack she wants. Alyssa clears her throat softly.

“Sorry I almost got you killed.”

“Yeah,” Emma laughs a little awkwardly. “That was nuts.”

She still doesn’t turn around.

“She could’ve broken your nose or something. Crazy.” Alyssa waits for a reply that doesn’t come. “It’s just so stupid, me still talking to her and trying to get along even after everything.”

Emma taps her fingers against the buttons of the vending machine. “No, I mean you guys really seem to have a strong connection.”

“Not anymore,” Alyssa says. “It’s, um… I told her to stay away from me.”

“We’ll see,” Emma says with a light chuckle. She takes her snack and turns to leave. “I’m sure you guys will… find your way back to one another someday.”

She turns to go with a dull smile.

“Emma…” Alyssa finally manages to capture her full attention. “I am really sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Emma says, playing it off.

She leaves, and Alyssa suddenly looks as if she’s fighting oncoming tears.

* * *

Greg stands at the copier. Emma, deep in thought, suddenly turns around and wheels her chair the short distance to join him.

“If you don’t want a gift, at least let me buy you a beer,” she tries. “Or lunch or something.”

“When Han Solo returns to the Death Star in the Millennium Falcon and shoots down the TIE fighters and saves the rebel cause,” Greg responds immediately, “do you think he does so for a free beer? No.”

“I—”

“Why are you so interested in buying me something, Emma?” Greg presses on. “What’s your angle?”

Emma just stares at him, puffing out her cheeks, and visibly starting to give up.

* * *

Rachel walks into the office, accompanied by a security guard, and the whole room goes silent. Barry glares daggers at her from across the room. Alyssa looks up in surprise, shrinking back into her seat even as Rachel sends out an apology to her with her eyes. Emma tightens her jaw. Greg stands up, one hand on the pepper spray attached to his belt.

As Rachel passes Emma to go to the accounting department, she stops and turns to her.

“Hey, um… I’m sorry,” she says.

Emma shrugs, raising her hands as if to tell Rachel to forget about the whole incident. Rachel nods slightly, making her way to the accountants.

Shelby stands up as Rachel approaches, moving subtly in front of Kaylee, who rests a hand on the small of Shelby’s back as they face down a subdued Rachel. Shelby has a hard look in her eyes. Kaylee looks a little timid, holding out Rachel’s final check without making direct eye contact. Rachel takes the check.

“Thanks,” she mumbles.

Greg subtly takes his nunchucks out of his desk drawer as Rachel slowly walks back towards the exit. She pauses at Alyssa’s desk, leaning against it slightly with regret in her eyes. Alyssa meets her gaze cautiously.

“Can I… see you after work for coffee or something?” Rachel asks.

“I don’t know,” Alyssa says quietly.

“Please. I just got some stuff I want to say to you,” Rachel says. Her voice is softer than it has been in a while. “After that, I’ll be out of your life for good. I promise.”

Alyssa hesitates, but eventually, she nods.

Rachel dips her head, turning to go and leaving without another word. The office is still silent, though, and it’s like nobody quite knows what to do after Rachel’s final visit. The silence is broken by Kevin storming into the bullpen from the break room with a twizzler in his hand.

“Emma! It’s Rachel, look out!”

“Thanks, Kev,” Emma says. “I’m… good, though.”

* * *

“I’m so sorry,” Rachel sighs, sat across a booth table from Alyssa at a coffee shop. “I really wasn’t gonna do anything—"

“That’s not how it came across.” Alyssa’s voice is hard.

“I _wasn’t_ going to do anything, but then I…” Rachel shakes her head slightly. “I kept thinking about you two together, and… God, Alyssa, I just thought you guys were really good friends.”

Alyssa looks down at her coffee. “I should’ve told you earlier. I just—I think we both made some bad choices on that one.”

Rachel looks at her for a long moment, and then her shoulders slump. “So, you gonna start dating Nolan, then?”

“Um… no.” Alyssa shakes her head, almost to herself. “No, she has a girlfriend.”

“Oh, yeah.” Rachel’s brow furrows. “Wait a minute, you broke off our wedding for her, and you’re not even…”

“No,” Alyssa tells her, looking out of the window for a moment. “There were a lot of reasons.”

“You mean you’re not even gonna _try_ to go out with her?” Rachel seems confused. “I don’t get you, Alyssa.”

“I know,” Alyssa says.

* * *

The camera films Rachel and Alyssa saying goodbye from the other side of the street. They embrace somewhat awkwardly, and then Rachel meets her eyes for a moment, before turning and walking away. Alyssa watches her go, a smile creeping onto her face as she, too, turns her back on her past.

* * *

Emma walks out of the ladies’ room at the end of the day. She goes to open the door to the almost deserted bullpen, but stops in her tracks, because Greg is sat at his desk, sobbing furiously as he listens to ‘My Heart Will Go On’, which is blasting from his computer. Emma quickly turns around and walks back into the bathroom.

* * *

“He hates that song,” she says, stood in the bathroom with her arms folded across her chest. “ _Hates_ it. Or so he wants everyone to believe. I won’t tell anyone. Ever. It’s not much, but it’s the best I can do right now to make us even.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter: beach games :)))


	13. beach games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based off of episode 3x22!
> 
> this is the longest chapter so far, clocking in at 6k words, mainly just because there was too much good stuff in this episode that i didn't want to cut!
> 
> enjoy!

Trent is sat at his desk, looking despondent and groaning quietly under his breath. Greg sits next to him and looks at Trent’s computer.

“Where does it hurt?”

“Just… all over,” Trent says. “I don’t want to do anything. I’m dying.”

Greg shakes his head. “No, that’s not how it works. You have to point to a specific part of the body.”

Trent sighs, looking at the computer screen and pointing to the midsection of a human anatomy picture that Greg has pulled up. “Right there.”

“Abdomen,” Greg confirms. “Okay, let’s see… ‘menses’.”

“Maybe,” Trent hums thoughtfully.

“’The uterus contracts after your egg passes through it’,” Greg reads off the screen. Trent frowns.

“That’s not it. I don’t have eggs.”

“So, when did this start?” Greg asks.

Trent shrugs. “About ten minutes ago.”

“When I came in with the paperwork?”

The camera zooms out to reveal the stack of papers on Trent’s desk.

* * *

Alyssa tries her best to explain.

“About forty times a year, Trent gets really sick but has no symptoms,” she says. “Greg is always gravely concerned.”

* * *

The picture cuts back to Trent and Greg.

“Ooh, is it possible you ate food that contained animal waste?” Greg asks.

Trent looks thoughtfully at the computer. “It’s possible.”

“Trent?” Alyssa walks in the open door. “Um, Dee Dee Allen is on line one.”

“Oh,” Trent says, and suddenly it’s like he’s feeling a lot better. “Everybody out! Out, out, out.”

Greg and Alyssa scramble. Trent settles, taking the call.

“To what do I owe this great honor, Dee Dee Allen?” he asks in a fake-deep voice.

Dee Dee sighs. “I’m calling to see if you would come down and interview for a job we have opening up in corporate.”

“Really?” Trent looks shocked.

“A week from today,” Dee Dee confirms. “Bring your first-quarter stats and your recommendation for who’d take over the Scranton branch.”

Trent seems as if he can hardly believe this is happening. “I—wow. I wish I had prepared something to say.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“May God guide you in your quest,” Trent says. There’s a long pause before Dee Dee replies.

“…Yes.”

* * *

Trent walks through a very casually-dressed office; he himself is wearing an open Hawaiian shirt over a t-shirt, with a beaded necklace around his neck. “Okay, does everyone have their towels and swimsuits? We have about an hour and a half so I suggest that you all go potty now. Then we will be congregating on the par-tay bus!”

* * *

Angie looks about ready to burst with excitement. “Today is beach day! Trent is taking the whole office to the beach. So I’m wearing my bathing suit underneath my shirt, see?”

She lifts her shirt to show the camera crew, but all that is seen is pixelated. Angie drops her shirt again, realization passing across her features as she snorts.

“Oh, yeah, I packed it in my purse.”

* * *

“Hey, Alyssa, I have a very important job for you today,” Trent says, coming to a stop by the receptionist desk. Alyssa, wearing a t-shirt, hoodie and jeans over her two-piece, looks up.

“I thought we were just having fun at the beach.”

“We are,” Trent reassures her. “But I would like you to take notes. And I want you to find out about people’s character. You know, not their hotness, per se, but their humor and their charisma, and the indefinable quality that makes you all glad to follow me.”

Alyssa just stares at him.

* * *

“What happens to a company is somebody takes a boss away?” Trent repeats the question back to the camera. “I will answer your question with a question. It’s like what happens to a chicken… when you take its head away? It dies.”

He pauses.

“Unless you find a new head. I need to see which one of these people have the skills to be a chicken head.”

* * *

“You want me to write down people’s indefinable qualities?” Alyssa raises her eyebrows.

“I want you to write down everything that people are doing all day,” Trent says. “And then I want you to type it up in a way that is helpful. Alright?”

He grins at her as he walks away. Alyssa sighs heavily.

* * *

“I have the most boring job in the office,” she says, “so why wouldn’t I have the most boring job on beach day?”

* * *

Kevin stands outside the bus, wearing sunglasses and a straw hat. “I just want to lie on the beach and eat hot dogs. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

* * *

Everyone’s on the bus, silent except for Kevin, who’s singing Kenny Rogers’ ‘The Gambler’.

 _“And the night got deathly quiet, and his face lost all expression. Said if you’re gonna play the game, boy, you gotta learn to play it right,”_ he sings. Next to him, Kaylee mouths the words. And, then, more people join in.

_“You got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em.”_

Trent’s voice is heard louder than anyone’s.

_“Know when to walk away, and when to run. You never count your money when you’re sitting at the table. There’ll be time enough for counting when the dealin’s done.”_

Once they’re done with the song, Trent makes his way down the aisle to the front of the bus. “Everybody, may I have your attention please? Today, we are not just spending a day at the beach.”

Barry rolls his eyes. “Oh, sweet mother of God.”

“We are all participating in mandatory fun activities,” Trent announces. “Funtivities!”

Emma and Carrie glance at each other and try not to laugh.

Trent carries on. “And there is a special secret prize for the winner.”

“Yes!” Greg punches the air. “Funtivities! I knew it wasn’t just a trip to the beach.”

“Okay, you know what?” Trent sighs, heading back to the rear of the bus. “Your enthusiasm is turning people off.”

Greg just smiles. “I hope there’ll be management parables.”

“Well…” Trent trails off, crouching down next to Alyssa as he reaches her. “Hey, Alyssa, did you get that down?”

“Like what?” Alyssa frowns.

“Like everything I said and everything they did.” He gives her a look. “Just… write it down before you forget it.”

“I don’t remember exactly what—”

Trent sighs as he gestures to her notepad. “You’ve just been drawing pictures. Ugh. I can’t stay mad at you.”

* * *

The bus pulls to a stop beside a sign that reads ‘Lake Scranton’.

“Here we are, ladies and gentlemen,” Trent announces, making for the door. “Last one down is a rotten egg!”

Everyone slowly gets up from their seats and walks down the aisle to the door. Trent is already striding off in the direction of the sandy beach on the shore of the lake.

“Watch out for snakes!”

* * *

The office employees walk along the beach. Trent tells them to find a cosy spot, but as soon as everyone gets settled in, he claps his hands and tells them to circle around. Carrie’s head knocks against Emma’s shoulder as she groans.

“Let’s play some games,” Trent announces. “We are situated on the northeast corner of Scenic Lake Scranton, America’s eighth-largest indigenous body of water.”

Emma shakes her head at the camera.

“It is here that a group of Americans will undergo the ultimate challenge,” Trent says. “One day. An office full of strangers who work together. But only one survivor.”

Everyone exchanges dawning looks of comprehension as some of them seemingly realize that Trent is pretending that he’s hosting the show ‘Survivor’.

“What?” Shelby scrunches up her face.

“Just words.” Trent shakes his head. “Inspiring words. For the competitions, you will be divided into four tribes. Each tribe will have a leader that I will pick randomly off the top of my head.” He begins to pace back and forth in front of them. “Emma, Greg, Nick, and Barry.”

Greg punches the air again. “Yes!”

“Choose your tribes.” Trent invites the four leaders to the front. “Oh, except for Alyssa. Not Alyssa.”

Alyssa sighs and steps off to the side, clutching her notebook.

Emma is up to choose first. “Carrie.”

Carrie grins, dashing forward to high-five Emma while Alyssa watches on from the outside.

* * *

“Emma Nolan.” Trent addresses the camera with a ‘Survivor’-esque torch in the background of the shot. “Pros: Smart, cool, good-looking. Remind you of anybody you know? Cons: Not a hard worker. I can spend all day on a project, and she will finish the same project in a half hour, so that should tell you something.”

* * *

“I choose Trent!” Greg says, pointing at him.

Trent shakes his head. “I’m not playing.”

“Okay, fine,” Greg sighs. “Temp.”

Marcus rolls his eyes and goes to stand beside Greg.

* * *

“Greg is an obvious candidate for my job,” Trent muses. “He has the best sales record in the office. He loves the work.”

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“He is, however, an idiot.”

* * *

“We are going to choose team names,” Trent tells them. “Greg?”

“We will be called Gryffindor,” Greg says.

“Really?” Emma asks. “Not Slytherin?”

“Slytherin are the bad guys, Emma.”

Emma snorts. “Okay. We will be Voldemort.”

“He who must not be named?” Greg lowers his sunglasses slowly. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Voldemort.” Emma starts a chant and is quickly backed up by Carrie and Kevin. “Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort—”

Greg grits his teeth. “You really shouldn’t be saying that.”

“Stop it,” Trent groans. “Okay, Barry, your team name.”

“I don’t care what you call my team.” They haven’t even begun and, already, Barry is over it.

“Then I will name your team the red team,” Trent declares.

Barry shakes his head. “No. The blue team.”

* * *

“I am also considering Barry,” Trent tells the camera. “He probably won’t get it.”

* * *

Nick plants his hands on his hips. “We will be team USA.”

“Very good,” Trent says. “Alyssa, please take a note that Nick is patriotic.”

* * *

“Nick Boomer. Pros: He’s classy. He gets me. He went to Cornell. I trust him,” Trent says. “Cons: I… don’t really trust him.”

* * *

The four teams are lined up beside some buckets, a fairly short distance across from four torches that stand side by side in the sand.

“It is time for the great spoon and egg race,” Trent says. “This one is with a little twist.”

“There’s already a twist,” Barry says, looking bored out of his mind. “You’re carrying an egg on a spoon.”

Trent ignores him. “The person carrying the egg will be blindfolded. Please put on your blindfolds. That person carrying the egg will go down, circle a torch, come back and deposit their egg in the bucket. First team back is the winner.”

Emma puts a red bandana over Carrie’s eyes, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Marcus is wearing a blue bandana, Kaylee a yellow, and Angie a green.

“Ready, set, go!”

Angie almost immediately drops her egg. Barry snorts.

“Nice work, Angie.”

Nick is walking backwards in front of Kaylee. “Angie is out, follow my voice. Awesome job, keep it moving right this way. Looking good!”

“I don’t wanna hit the big rock,” Kaylee says nervously.

“Don’t worry, you’re not—”

Kaylee starts to panic. “I know I’m near the big rock, I just know it.”

“You’re nowhere near the big rock,” Nick says reassuringly.

Kaylee stops in her tracks, pulling the bandana down with her free hand. Nick gapes at her.

“No, what are you doing? No!” The camera pans over to about twenty feet beyond the line of torches, where there is indeed a big rock. It is, however, nowhere near Kaylee. Nick grits his teeth, plastering a fake smile on his face. “See, now we’re disqualified.”

* * *

“I am okay if I lose every single contest today,” Nick says, sitting just by the water. “Honestly. Because, ever since I graduated from anger management training – ten weeks well spent, by the way – I see these contests as an opportunity for me to demonstrate what a good sport I am.”

* * *

Emma is verbally guiding a very focused Carrie.

“Whoa, stop, stop, stop—” she says. “There’s a hole. Just step over the hole.”

As Carrie takes a big step over a non-existent hole, Greg can be heard screaming at Marcus to hurry up in the background.

“Perfect,” Emma says. “Ooh, just made it. Okay, turn left.”

Greg is still yelling. “Come on, lazy bones, move it! Andale, andale!”

“You have to stop this right now, or I’m not gonna do this anymore,” Marcus tells him firmly.

“What are you saying?”

“You have to stop yelling at me, or I’m not gonna do the egg race.”

“Okay, I apologize for yelling at you,” Greg says loudly, clearly frustrated. “I’m trying to bring team spirit!”

As they continue to argue, Emma has since directed Carrie to the edge of the water.

“Whoa, another big hole,” she says. “Take a big step.”

Carrie takes a step forwards, gasping as her sneaker disappears into water and pitching forwards enough that she needs to bring her other foot into the water in order to regain her balance. She pulls her bandana up.

“Oh my God,” she laughs as Emma starts to run. “You ass!”

Carrie throws her egg at Emma, who’s giggling uncontrollably. Alyssa sits on a blanket, sunglasses on and notepad in her lap, watching them wistfully.

* * *

“There’s nothing better than a beautiful day at the beach, filled with sun, surf, and…” Alyssa holds up her notepad to the camera. “Diligent note taking."

Trent’s voice comes from off-camera. “Alyssa, you’re missing things.”

Alyssa sighs, turning another page in her notepad and shaking out her writing hand.

* * *

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Greg yells, running on the spot and kicking up sand into Alyssa’s face behind him. “Come on, mush! Come on, you bastard.”

Marcus, who is only feet from the finish line, rips off his bandana and throws it to the floor. He tosses the egg and spoon down, too, walking away from an apoplectic Greg.

“What the—Damn it, temp!”

“Not a temp!”

Nick fills the awkward silence with clapping. “Great job, everyone. That was fantastic.”

* * *

“Okay, Alyssa, I have another little project for you,” Trent says, unpacking several grocery bags.

“Does it have to do with these shopping bags filled with hot dogs?”

“Smart as a whip.” Trent grins at her. “Yes, these are precooked, so it’s not absolutely necessary… But I would appreciate it if you could heat up eight hundred hot dogs for a little contest I’m going to be having.”

Alyssa frowns. “When’s the contest?”

“Like, um…” Trent checks his watch. “Ten minutes.”

“How am I supposed to—”

“Thanks a bunch!” Trent jogs away, leaving Alyssa standing there looking extremely confused.

* * *

“A good manager has got to be hungry,” Trent says. “Hungry for success.”

* * *

Everyone playing sits at a picnic table, with piles of hot dogs in buns on plates before them. He claps his hands together a few times.

“Okay, who’s hungry?” he asks. As people begin to reach for the food, he stops them hurriedly. “No, no, no. Do not touch the food, please. Not yet. That is our next event. A hot dog eating contest.”

People groan, but Trent carries on.

“For those of you who are curious, the world record is fifty-four and a half hot dogs,” he says. “And you know what? I _personally_ have cooked up enough so that each and every one of you could break that record, so shoot for the stars, okay?”

Alyssa gives the camera a disappointed look.

“Alright,” Trent announces. “The team that eats the most hot dogs in ten minutes will be declared the winner. On your mark, get set—”

“Can I have a turkey burger?” Kaylee interrupts.

“No, I have the only one,” Trent says. “I claimed it. Ready?”

Shelby buts in, too, glancing at Kaylee. “Turkey’s a healthy meat.”

“Guys, come on,” Trent complains. “It’s very important that you all try to eat as many hot dogs as you can. On your mark, get set, eat!”

Nobody moves.

“Is there any mustard?” Angie asks.

Trent groans. “No, just… eat it, Angie. Dip it in your water so it’ll slide down your gullet more easily.”

People are eating now, but it’s slow going, and Trent is growing visibly frustrated. He tries one more appeal.

“Come on, the winner gets a big, big prize.”

“What is it?” Mo asks, mouth full of hot dog.

“I can’t say.”

Emma grins. “You can’t say, or you can’t pronounce it?”

“The winner gets a regional manager’s salary for a year, and a car, and the feeling that they are making a difference in the world,” Trent says.

Kaylee swallows her food. “Can we just take those first two things?”

“The winner of today gets my job!” Trent yells. “Okay? I’m interviewing for a job at corporate. And they’re only interviewing a handful of people, and I’m the most qualified, and I’ll probably get it.”

Emma glances at the camera; everyone else around her is stunned into silence, apart from Greg.

“You’re leaving?”

“I didn’t want to tell anybody,” Trent says with a sigh. “I didn’t wanna cast a pall over our fun beach day. But you know what, I don’t know who to recommend, because nobody is stepping up.”

Nick bangs his fist on the table. “I’m so hungry!”

He digs into his food as the camera pans over to Barry.

“Do you expect me to believe that you’re truly making your recommendations on this basis?” He holds up a hot dog.

“Indeed.” Trent nods solemnly.

Barry pauses for a moment, and then shovels the hot dog into his mouth.

* * *

“I would rather work for an upturned broom with a bucket for a head than work for somebody else in this office besides myself,” Barry declares. “Game on, losers.”

* * *

“Three, two, one…” Trent counts down the final seconds of the contest. “Stop your eating!”

Everyone groans as they slump back, putting down any half eaten hot dogs. Trent does a quick check of Alyssa’s notes.

“And the winner is Nick Boomer, with fourteen hot dogs!”

Nick shakes his head. “One came up.”

“Thirteen hot dogs, everybody!”

Greg slams a bun down on the table. “Damn it!”

* * *

Kaylee and Shelby have snuck away from everyone during a break between challenges. They’re behind a sand dune, out of sight, and they’re caught in a heated kiss. The camera films them stealthily from afar. Shelby kisses Kaylee one more time before pulling away with a breathless laugh.

“You know what would be really funny?”

“What?” Kaylee whines, locking her hands around Shelby’s waist and tugging her back into another kiss.

“Mm—Sabotage.”

A slow smile spreads over Kaylee’s face. “What are you talking about?”

“The ancient Dutch art of screwing up your own team,” Shelby says, and Kaylee slaps her lightly on the arm.

“Okay, genius. Who am I sabotaging?”

“Nick,” Shelby says, a certain hardness in her eyes. “I do not want to work for Nick.”

“He’s not _that_ bad,” Kaylee says. “But it sounds fun. Oh, I know! I’ll misunderstand everything he says until he goes insane.”

Shelby presses their lips together once more, resting her forehead against Kaylee’s when she pulls back. “If Trent organizes some kind of group hug, stand next to me.”

* * *

“It’s very simple, there are only three rules.” Trent says, reading off the instruction card. The camera pulls back to reveal Emma and Barry dressed in inflatable sumo suits, a tarp-like circle on the sand in front of them. “You must not touch the ground, you must not step outside of the ring, and you must always wear the safety mittens.”

Carrie, who is dramatically massaging Emma’s shoulders, stops. Emma glances down at her own bare hands.

“Uh… we don’t have any safety mittens.”

“I probably left them in the trunk of my car,” Trent muses, almost to himself. “It’s alright. Here we go.”

Carrie pats Emma’s inflatable butt. “Go get him.”

Trent looks between Emma and Barry with glee. “And… go!”

Barry gets a determined look on his face, roaring as he charges. Emma recoils, but it’s too late; she doesn’t stand a chance as Barry sends her flying with one collision. Carrie winces. Everyone whoops, and even Alyssa is laughing as Barry offers up a hand to help her up.

“Sorry about that, kid,” he says. “It’s all about taking points away from Greg.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine.” Emma’s voice comes out high-pitched.

* * *

Emma stands, still in her sumo suit, with an awed expression on her face.

“Oh my God… I have never seen that look in a person’s eyes, ever,” she says. “I thought that I might die. On beach day.”

She waddles out of frame.

* * *

Back at the sumo ring, Greg and Nick are bumping against each other in their inflatable suits, trying to knock each other out of the competition. Eventually, Greg defeats Nick and pins him to the sand, flopping down on top of him and bouncing right back up again immediately after. It doesn’t stop him from yelling in victory.

“Gryffindor!”

* * *

“I didn’t win,” Nick says plainly. “But the only reason I didn’t win is because I recently learned that it’s better to work things out with words.”

Greg butts into his interview. “That’s not why you lost.”

“Yes it is.” Nick faces him down. “I totally could’ve kicked your butt so bad.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Greg bumps him again, and the two of them resume their ridiculous sumo fighting.

Greg pushes Nick to the ground and jumps on him again.

“How do you like that, Boomer?”

* * *

Nick waddles in his suit, dejected, to the water’s edge. He trips, stumbling in the sand as he falls forwards into the water.

“Oh, God,” he says, flapping his arms and legs uselessly as he floats in the water on his back. “Help!”

Kaylee spots him and hurries to the shore. “Nick?”

“Kaylee!” Nick calls out desperately. “Kaylee, hey! Oh, thank God. Go tell somebody.”

“What?” Kaylee calls. “Nick, what should I tell them?”

“Go tell them I’m floating away, obviously!” Nick is, indeed, getting further away from the shore of the lake.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” Kaylee says.

Nick is in utter disbelief. “Kaylee, it’s pretty simple. Look at what I’m doing, and go tell somebody it!”

“Sorry,” Kaylee says, standing there and watching him float away. “Bye, Nick!”

“Kaylee!”

* * *

“I knew that finding a successor would be difficult,” Trent tells the camera with a sigh. “I did not know that it would be impossible. Thus far, the candidates have been wildly disappointing.”

There’s something in the background of the shot behind him in the lake, but Trent doesn’t notice as he continues.

“Emma is not taking it seriously,” he says. “Barry is probably having a stroke. And Nick… where is he? Where the hell is Nick?”

The camera zooms in over Trent’s shoulder, revealing that the thing in the background is actually Nick, who has made it about a hundred feet into the lake and is kicking wildly in any direction he can. Trent’s voice continues off-camera.

“Where is he, Alyssa? Do you know?” Silence. “Ugh. Who’s ahead in points?”

The camera pulls back to Alyssa, who’s sat on the ground near Trent. She looks down at her notepad.

“Um… I think they’re even,” she says. “At various times, you gave Emma ten points, Greg a gold star, and Barry a thumbs up. I don’t really know how to compare those units.”

“Well, check to see if there’s a conversion chart in that notebook,” Trent instructs.

“I really doubt it, Trent.”

Trent pouts like a petulant child. “Please just check.”

* * *

Emma and Carrie are sitting side by side on the sand as the sun begins to set over the water. Emma’s on the phone.

“Great. Yeah, I’ll see you next week,” she says. “Thank you. And, yeah, I’m passing you over to Carrie.”

Carrie takes the phone from Emma. “Hello? Yeah, hi, Dee Dee. Yes, I would like to be considered for the corporate position in well.”

“’In well’?” Emma snorts.

“As well.”

“How would that work?” Emma murmurs. “In well?”

Carrie holds a finger up to her lips, and Emma grins at her.

“I just wanna know.”

“Yes, uh-huh,” Carrie says, on the phone. “That would be fine.”

“Wait a minute. This job is in a well.” Emma keeps going. “I don’t want it.”

“Cut it out,” Carrie hisses.

Emma widens her eyes playfully. “I don’t!”

* * *

Trent addresses his employees, still gamely trying with his challenges. “What does a great manager need most of all? Courage.”

“How so?” Barry looks unimpressed. Trent gives him a look, and Barry tries again. “I mean, sure thing, that sounds smar—I can’t do this anymore. I’m going to sit in the bus.”

He walks off, giving up. Trent watches him go.

“Your loss, Barry.” He turns his attention to the rest of the group. “Meanwhile, the rest of us will have a super fun time defeating our fear, and creating a lasting memory…”

The camera pans around to reveal a wooden pyre behind Trent.

“Walking through fire!”

On cue, a man next to the pyre sets it ablaze. There’s a long silence as everyone takes this in and, inevitably, Emma’s eyes find the camera. She gives it a wide-eyed look, making it clear what she thinks of this plan, and Trent’s sanity.

* * *

After nightfall, the pyre has burned down to coal. The light from the torches, as well, casts a flickering glow in the dark. Trent once again stands before them.

“Who among you has the guts to replace me?” he asks. “Let them walk across these coals.”

Nobody volunteers. They all just look at the burning coals with a nervous expression on their faces. Kevin turns to Kaylee.

“Are you gonna try it?”

“No,” Kaylee says. “I’m not gonna walk in a fire after your disgusting feet have gone through.”

“Kaylee, it is a million degrees,” Kevin insists.

Alyssa looks thoughtfully at the coals before glancing up at the camera with a glint in her eye. “I’m gonna do it. And I fully expect to burn my feet and go to the hospital.” She smiles nervously. “That’s the right spirit when doing a coal walk, right?”

She begins to unlace her sneakers, but Trent waves a dismissive hand in her direction.

“No, no, not you, Alyssa,” he says. “You have to keep score.”

“I’d like to try,” Alyssa protests.

“Pointless.”

“But I’m really not kidding, I—”

“We need to do this seriously,” Trent interrupts, eyeballing Greg and Emma. “Okay? This is about guts. It takes guts to be a regional manager. Emma, you’re up.”

Alyssa looks down, disappointed.

Emma’s response is immediate. “Nope.”

“Why not?” Trent frowns. “Come on.”

“Oh, because I don’t want my feet to get burned,” Emma explains.

Trent sighs. “You do not have what it takes to be a regional manager.”

“That’s harsh.”

“Who’s next?” Trent carries on. “Nick. Where’s Nick? Nick is never here today.”

Kaylee subtly glances at Shelby, who is struggling not to laugh behind her hand.

* * *

At the corner of the lake, the camera films as headlights illuminate Nick and his sumo suit. He’s run aground but is still floating helplessly in the water. His eyes jerk open at the light intrusion.

“Hello? Who’s there?” he asks. “My name is Nicholas Boomer. I was with a group called Dunder Mifflin.”

There’s no response. The headlights pass.

“Hello?” Nick tries again.

The camera simply observes his plight.

* * *

“Why don’t you go, Trent?” Kevin challenges.

“Because I already did,” Trent says. “Remember that one time I burned my foot on the George Foreman grill?”

Emma shakes her head. “That is not the same at all. If you’re gonna ask other people to do it, you should do it yourself.”

“Alright, fine,” Trent huffs. “Okay.”

He heads to the end of the coal walk, toeing off his shoes into the sand and shaking out his shoulders. He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. He rocks back and forth on his heels, but doesn’t actually make any move to start walking. The group exchange long-suffering glances. The seconds tick by.

“The mind has to wrap around… the foot,” Trent explains. At least thirty more seconds pass before Alyssa intervenes quietly.

“You want us to count to three?”

“Yes, count to three, please,” Trent says.

“Three, two, one.” Everyone joins in, but Trent is shaking his head.

“No, count the other way,” he instructs. “Count one, two, three. Not three, two, one.”

They all try again. “One, two, three.”

“Go, Trent,” Kaylee says, but Trent is still rooted to the spot. His forehead beads with sweat.

“Wait, am I going on ‘go’, or am I going on ‘three’?”

“On the ‘go’ that’s after ‘three’,” Kevin suggests.

“Okay,” Trent says. Once more, everyone joins in on the count.

“One, two, three, go!”

Trent lifts one foot up, wobbling slightly, but still makes little move to actually walk across the coals. Greg shakes his head, stepping forwards out of the circle.

“No! It’s okay. I will do this, Trent,” he declares, shrugging his jacket off. “I will walk and stand on these coals until you award me the position of regional manager!”

Without wasting a second, Greg steps onto the coals. He gasps lightly as he walks to the middle, but everyone’s applause melts away into vocalizations of concern when Greg stops walking and stands still.

“Give me the job!” Greg shouts, his face contorting in pain. “Give me the job!”

“I’m not going to give it to you,” Trent says.

“Ow, ouch!” Greg whimpers, falling to his knees, and then everyone starts yelling.

“Don’t kneel on the coals!”

“Greg, get up!”

“Oh my God!”

“Trent, do something!”

Greg is almost army crawling back towards the sand, everyone reaching out to pull him by the scruff of his neck to safety. Trent gags slightly.

“God, that stinks!”

* * *

“Being a boss is also about image,” Trent explains to the camera. “I’ve never looked like _that_. That was… gross.”

* * *

Trent sighs as almost all of the group walk away from the coals.

“I just… I don’t see the connection between a fire walk and management,” he says. “Worst seventy-five bucks I ever spent. You know what? If I had to pick my replacement based on today, it would be Mr. or Mrs. Outside Hire.”

He looks at them all as they sit down in their deck chairs in a circle, and shakes his head.

“Look, I don’t want to leave this branch that I love to an outside hire,” he tells them. “Therefore, we’re going to have a one-hundred-point, winner take all, sudden death, tribal counsel round to test the aspect of my job that I think is the most important. Something I call the Bob Hope factor.”

“Who’s Bob Hope?” Kaylee asks.

“God, he’s a… he’s a comedian.” Trent looks up as if wishing for a deity to give him strength.

Kaylee nods her head. “Oh, like Amanda Bynes, before all of the… you know.”

“Yes,” Trent says tiredly. “Sure. The person to replace me has to have a great sense of humor. And they have to possess the leadership qualities of a Bynes or a Hope.”

* * *

A short distance away, Alyssa is still stood by the coal walk. She holds her hand out over the coals, testing the heat as the fire crackles around her. She bits her lip thoughtfully as she straightens back up.

* * *

“So, without further ado,” Trent continues. “Emma and Greg… show us what you’ve got.”

Emma stands up and takes a deep breath. “Hey, I know what you’re looking for, but I’ve got to be honest. I really don’t think I should be considered as your replacement.”

Trent shakes his head. “You’re being too modest.”

“Trent, on Thursday, I’m gonna drive down and interview with Dee Dee for the open position in New York,” Emma says.

“Okay… that is not funny,” Trent laughs, after a long pause. “I am deducting sixty points from Voldemort for false pretenses.”

Emma sits back down.

“Okay, Greg, your turn.” Trent turns to a slightly-smouldering Greg. “Wow us.”

Greg stumbles to his feet and launches into his spiel-slash-joke. “’The Aristocrats’. A man and his wife and children go into the offices of a talent agency…”

The camera zooms past him, to where Alyssa is barefoot and lining up at the start of the coal walk.

“…And the talent agent says, ‘Describe your act.’ And the man says something really, really raunchy. And the talent representative says, ‘What do you call yourselves?’ And the man says, ‘The Aristocrats.’”

* * *

Alyssa takes a deep breath, psyching herself up, before she grins determinedly at the camera and bounds across the coals with only a few squeaks of pain. She stops once her feet hit the sand at the other side of the coals, turning to the camera with a shocked expression, as if she hadn’t been sure that she could actually do it.

She grins, running over to the circle where Greg is still rambling on. “Hey,” she interrupts. “I want to say something.”

Everyone stares at her, but Alyssa pays them no mind, jumping into the middle of the circle with a breathless little laugh.

“I’ve been trying to be more honest lately, and I just need to say a few things,” she says, gesturing behind herself excitedly. “I did the coal walk! Just… I did it. Trent, you couldn’t even do that. Maybe I should be _your_ boss.”

Trent smiles a little. Alyssa blows out a breath.

“Wow, I feel really good right now,” she says, looking up and meeting everyone’s eyes. “Why didn’t any of you come to my art show? I invited all of you. That really sucked.” She shakes her head, frowning. “It’s like sometimes some of you act like I don’t even exist.”

Everyone exchanges awkward looks, some of them looking away guiltily. Alyssa swallows heavily, turning her attention to where Emma is sitting with pain in her eyes.

“Emma, I called off my wedding because of you,” she tells her. Emma blinks in surprise. Alyssa bites her lip for a moment before continuing. “And now we’re not even friends. And things are just, like, weird between us, and that _sucks_.”

There are tears beginning to gather in Alyssa’s eyes as she meets Emma’s.

“And I miss you. You were my best friend before you went to Stamford.” Alyssa sniffs a little. “And I really miss you.”

Emma can’t say a word, but Alyssa is speaking enough for the both of them.

“I shouldn’t have been with Rachel,” she says, shaking her head. “There were a lot of reasons to call off my wedding. But the truth is I didn’t care about any of those reasons until I met you. And now you’re with someone else. And that’s fine—”

Alyssa glances at Carrie, who’s watching her speech with raised eyebrows.

“It’s whatever—that’s not what I’m—” Alyssa cuts herself off, frustrated. “I’m not—okay, my feet really hurt. The thing that I’m just trying to say to you, Emma, and to everyone else in the circle, I guess… is that I miss having fun with you.”

Emma swallows, her eyes shining. Alyssa rolls her eyes at herself.

“Just you, not everyone in the circle,” she amends. And, finally, a weight lifts from her shoulders. She nods slowly, a tiny smile tugging at her lips even through the mixture of other conflicting emotions written all over her face. “Okay, I am gonna go walk in the water now. Yeah. It’s… it’s a good day.”

Alyssa dashes off to the edge of the lake. Emma sits in her seat, completely still, staring at the place where Alyssa just was.

“Alyssa, that was amazing,” Trent calls after her. “But I am still looking for someone with a sales background.”

Kaylee, sat next to Emma, slowly turns to look at her. Emma doesn’t blink as she continues to gaze straight ahead. She looks completely and utterly shocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT? IN THE SEASON THREE FINALE?


	14. the job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this episode is based off the episode 3x23 aka the season 3 finale!

Trent is sitting in the waiting room of a corporate office building. The words ‘Dunder Mifflin’ are spelled out on the wall in official-looking signs. Trent gets to his feet eagerly and the camera pans over to where Dee Dee Allen is entering the room. He gives her a bright smile.

“Dee Dee.”

“Oh… Trent.” Dee Dee looks surprised.

Trent comes over to shake her hand. “Are we all set?”

“Isn’t… our interview tomorrow?” Dee Dee asks, narrowing her eyes.

The camera zoom’s in on Trent’s face as his mouth falls open slightly. He recovers quickly. “Yes. I just happened to be in the neighborhood, thought I’d drop in and say hello.”

“Just happened to be in Midtown Manhattan?”

“Thought I’d catch a show.”

Dee Dee just looks at him. “Middle of a workday?”

“No,” Trent says quietly. He shrugs. “You know what? Since I’m here, let me ask you a few questions about the job.”

“Okay.” Dee Dee folds her arms.

“How many people are you interviewing?” Trent asks her.

Dee Dee thinks on it for a brief moment. “We’re only interviewing branch managers and some lower level company people.”

“Ah. Well, good.” Trent beams. “Out of curiosity, are you interviewing anyone who’s been here longer than I have, or manages more people?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Great. One more… question.” Trent gets a little smug look on his face. “When you merged those branches, who did you put in charge?”

Dee Dee rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “I believe we put you in charge.”

“Wonderful. No further questions,” Trent jokes.

“Okay, Trent,” Dee Dee says, shaking his hand again. “I’m really looking forward to our interview.”

“And I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

Dee Dee shakes her head to herself as she walks through another set of doors which presumably lead to her office. Trent gives the camera a wink before checking over his shoulder to see what the receptionist thought. She looks suitably impressed, and gives Trent a subtle thumbs up.

* * *

“I have got it made in the shade.” Trent has his phone in his hand as he declares this to the camera. “I know this company. The other branch managers are total morons.”

He presses the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Alyssa, yeah. I forgot what day the interview was, and I drove to New York accidentally. Be, like, three hours late.”

* * *

Kevin and Alyssa are comparing notes on something when Emma walks into the office. She hangs her lightweight jacket up, turning to everyone as Alyssa and Kevin’s conversation tapers off. She runs a hand over her noticeably tidier hair a little self-consciously.

“Hey,” Kevin says, furrowing his brow. “What’s different about you? You look worse.”

Emma snorts. “Thanks, Kev.”

“She got a haircut,” Angie says, pointing at Emma.

“What’s up, Big Haircut?” Nick says loudly. Emma gives the camera an amused look as she reaches her desk. “You are no longer Big Tuna. From henceforth, you shall be known as Big Haircut.”

Emma takes off her blazer. “Nick, just—”

“What’s that, Big Haircut?”

Carrie grins at Emma.

* * *

Emma sits in the conference room for her interview. “Carrie suggested that I get a haircut for the interview tomorrow. So that I could look presentable. And not, as she so lovingly puts it, homeless.”

* * *

Alyssa clears her throat slightly. “Hey… I think it looks great.”

Emma smiles at her softly. “Thanks, Alyssa.”

Watching the two of them closely, Carrie’s eyebrows draw together ever so slightly. Emma sits down at her desk, and Alyssa sighs before she looks back down at her computer.

* * *

“After I had my little outburst at the beach, Emma was really nice about it.”

Over Alyssa’s words, the camera shows footage from the night at the beach. Alyssa is standing at the edge of the water, hugging Emma lightly.

“She just basically said that she missed my friendship too, and I would always mean a lot to her.”

The Emma and Alyssa in the picture walk out of frame, back towards the rest of the group.

“And I understand where she’s coming from,” Alyssa says as the picture cuts back to her interview in the conference room. “For the record, I am not embarrassed at all. It needed to be said, and I said it, and it only took me three years of constant filming to summon the courage, so…”

She takes a tiny, playful bow.

* * *

Greg knocks on the door to Trent’s office. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. The time has come to name my own replacement,” Trent says. He picks up an envelope from his desk. “So, please hand this letter of congratulations to Greg Nolan.”

Greg looks at the letter in awe. “But… But that’s my name.”

He looks at Trent, who just hides a smile as he looks back, and then Greg is quickly ripping open the envelope so that he can read the letter aloud.

“’Greg. Congratulations, a-wipe. Don’t screw the pooch.’” Greg looks at the letter for a long moment, and then he begins to cry. “Thank you,” he manages.

“Okay,” Trent says with a grin, one that fades as Greg continues to sob. “Alright…”

“Thank so much,” Greg cries, hugging the letter to his chest.

“Please stop crying.”

* * *

Alyssa hesitates as she approaches the break room, visibly steeling herself before walking inside, and then she’s making a beeline for Carrie, who’s sitting at one of the tables with a mug of coffee.

“Hey,” Alyssa says quietly.

Carrie’s head jerks up. “Hey.”

“Um, about the beach.” Alyssa twists her hands in front of her.

“It’s okay,” Carrie says. “We all say things without thinking.”

“Oh, no, it’s not that,” Alyssa says. “I’ve actually been thinking that for a long time, and I’m glad I said it. I just… I’m sorry if it made you feel weird.”

“Oh.” Carrie is clearly taken by surprise. She meets Alyssa’s even gaze. “Okay.”

* * *

Carrie purses her lips, frowning past the camera. She still looks a little nonplussed.

“Alyssa is… kind of a bitch.”

* * *

“Hey,” Carrie says, leaning against Emma’s desk while she’s looking over some paperwork. “What if we leave tonight? Grab a bite, get a hotel room. Enjoy the city a little bit.”

“Uh…” Emma puffs out her cheeks. “I just have so much paperwork to do.”

She sighs, scribbling her signiature on the form in front of her. Her eyes widen a little.

“Wow, done,” she says, closing the file. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Carrie exhales in relief.

* * *

Emma and Carrie approach Trent in the kitchen. Emma shoves her hands in her pockets.

“So Carrie and I were wondering if we could get off a few hours early, because we wanted to spend the night in the city,” she says.

Trent snorts, answering without thinking. “Why, so you can do it?”

“Whoops,” Emma says, and Trent pulls an apologetic face.

“Sorry. But, um, I was thinking that we could all leave tomorrow?” Trent suggests. “Do a convoy. Convoys are really fun! Pull up next to each other and give each other the finger. Moon each other. Fun stuff like that.”

Emma shakes her head. “Uh… we’re gonna go tonight. But we’re gonna see you there tomorrow morning, right?”

“Alright,” Trent says. “Your loss.”

Carrie speaks up. “Wait. How would you moon us if you were driving?”

“Cruise control.”

* * *

Alyssa walks into the break room only for Shelby to immediately grab her attention.

“Hey, Alyssa. I’ve been meaning to say something to you.” Her lips twitch as she fights a smile. “I really miss our friendship.”

Alyssa nods, smiling, as everyone in the room starts laughing. “Ha ha. That’s very funny.”

“I’ve never heard you talk that much,” Barry comments. “I thought it was Kaylee.”

Kaylee snorts. “I would never have done that. No way. No offense, Alyssa.”

“You know, what, don’t even worry about it.” Mo waves a dismissive hand. “Everyone was so drunk, I bet no-one even remembers what you said.”

Everyone gives him an odd look.

* * *

“Emmaaaaaa,” Greg sing-songs, swivelling in his chair as he tries to get his cousin’s attention. “Emma, Emma, Emma.”

Emma finally looks up. “Oh, hey, Greg.”

“I’m going to be your new boss,” Greg says smugly, squeezing the nutcracker in his hand. “It’s my greatest dream come true. Welcome to the Hotel Hell. Check-in time is now, check-out time is never.”

“Does my room have cable?” Emma asks, eyes going momentarily to the nutcracker with a bemused expression on her face.

“No. And the sheets are made of fire,” Greg tells her gleefully.

“Can I change rooms?”

“Sorry, we’re all booked up,” Greg says. “Hell convention in town.”

Emma hums. “Can I have a late check-out?”

“We’ll have to talk to the manager.”

“You’re not… the manager?” Emma holds back a laugh. “Even in your own fantasy?”

“I’m the owner,” Greg says, after a short pause. His eyes widen. “The co-owner. With Satan!”

“Okay, just so I understand it,” Emma says. “In your wildest fantasy, you are in hell. And you are co-running a bed and breakfast with the devil.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t told you my salary yet.”

“Go.”

Greg smirks. “Eighty thousand dollars a year.”

* * *

“Once I am officially regional manager, my first order of business will be to demote Emma Nolan,” Greg announces to the camera. “So, I will need a new number two.”

The picture cuts to Greg pinning up a sign-up sheet to apply for the ‘Assistant to the Regional Manager’ position.

“My ideal choice?” Greg thinks on it. “Jack Bauer. But he is unavailable. Fictional. And overqualified.”

* * *

“Hey, uh…” Carrie catches Alyssa’s attention as she walks by Carrie’s desk. “Before I leave tonight, would you mind making a half a dozen copies of Emma’s and my sales reports for our interviews tomorrow?”

Alyssa quickly glances at the camera. “Uh, sure.”

“Thanks.” Carrie hands the originals over.

“I really hope you get the job,” Alyssa offers.

Carrie pauses. “Thanks.”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously at Alyssa as she walks away.

* * *

“I’m happy for them both,” Alyssa says. “Particularly Emma. I hope she gets the job, you know, because I really just want her to be happy. And I know that sounds cliché.”

She rolls her eyes at herself.

“And I know saying it sounds cliché sounds cliché.” She pauses. “Maybe I’m being cliché, but I don’t care. I am what I am.”

Alyssa’s brow furrows.

“Wait, that’s Popeye.”

* * *

Emma is driving to New York with Carrie in the passenger seat. Carrie chances a quick glance over at her girlfriend.

“Hey, thank you so much for driving me down for my interview.”

“Totally. No problem.” Emma has a slight smirk on her lips as she plays along with whatever Carrie’s going with. “What are you interviewing for, by the way? My assistant, or…”

“Oh, you know, I’m gonna have a ‘Congratulations, Carrie’ party,” Carrie says. “Tomorrow night at my friend’s house.”

“Oh, wow, that sounds fun.”

“Yeah.”

Emma bites her lip to hide a smile. “Is your friend named Carrie, too? What did she accomplish?”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve been clearer,” Carrie says. It’s for me, because I’m gonna get the job.”

“Oh,” Emma says dramatically, her head bumping back against the headrest for a moment.

* * *

Trent walks out of his office, a grin on his face.

“Hey, everybody. The next time you see me, I will be working for corporate,” he announces. “Starting tomorrow, Greg Nolan will be running the branch. So, without further ado…”

Trent hits play on his phone, which then blasts Natalie Merchant’s ‘Kind and Generous’ throughout the office. Everyone turns to look at each other in confusion, particularly the younger employees. Barry and Angie just roll their eyes. Mo sways in the background of the shot.

“Goodbye,” Trent says. He begins walking backwards out of the office. “Goodnight. And good luck.”

As soon as he’s gone, Greg gets to his feet, and slaps a name plaque bearing the words 'Greg Nolan' onto the manager’s office door.

“Who’s ready to work?”

* * *

Emma stands on a quiet corner of New York City that night; as quiet a street as the city gets.

“Yeah, we went to The Spotted Pig for dinner. It’s in the Village. Uh, Carrie knew it,” she says. “And then we second-acted ‘Wicked’. That’s when you sneak in at intermission with all the smokers.”

The camera shows Emma giving Carrie a piggyback ride down the sidewalk.

“And then we went to a bar that used to be a church. Oh, and I swear I saw Lorne Michaels at one point.”

Carrie shakes her head in the background of Emma’s interview. “That wasn’t him.”

Emma nods at the camera as if to say it was.

* * *

“So, what’s gonna happen with us when I get this job?” Carrie asks as she and Emma walk side by side.

“Oh, do you mean when I get the job?” Emma grins.

Carrie rolls her eyes. “Well, _if_ you get the job… then I’d move here with you. Would you move with me?”

Emma doesn’t say anything, and Carrie sighs heavily.

“I’m not stupid, okay? I was at the beach,” she says. “We don’t have a future in Scranton. There’s… one too many people there.”

“You mean Kevin?” Emma jokes weakly.

They both stop, and Carrie takes a step closer. “You get it, right? We can’t stay there.”

“Yeah,” Emma says quietly. “I, um… I do. Come on.”

She reaches out her hand to Carrie, looking both ways before crossing the street.

* * *

The next day, Trent sits across from Emma and Carrie in the same waiting room he’d mistakenly been in the previous morning.

“How are you guys doing?” he asks Emma and Carrie. “Need anything?”

“Uh, no, we’re good,” Carrie says. “Thanks.”

“I have been here a bunch of times, so I know where everything is,” Trent says. “I know everybody’s names. If you need to know somebody’s name, just ask me.”

Emma points to someone approaching the receptionist desk. “Who’s that?”

“That…” Trent looks him up and down, “is Beardy.”

“Beardy?” Emma hums. “Why don’t I introduce myself?”

Trent’s eyes bulge. “No, no—just—that’s not his real name. That’s just what I call him, so…”

* * *

“I am by far the most qualified person they’re interviewing,” Trent says. “Emma and Carrie are here, which is cute. They’re like… kid actors tagging along with Dad to the big audition. Hoping to be discovered. Except Dad is the best actor around. Dad is… Meryl Streep.”

* * *

“You showed great leadership potential at the coal walk,” Greg tells Alyssa. She’s sat across the desk from him in his new office. His feet are up on the desk. “Even if you did follow it with that embarrassing personal confession.”

“Thank you.”

“I had to make Nick my number two,” Greg sighs. “It’s political. Complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

Alyssa squints at him slightly. Greg sits up properly and regards her with a serious expression on his face.

“I want you to be assistant regional manager.”

“Really?”

“Well, in a sense,” Greg amends. “Although publicly, I am going to retain the assistant regional manager position…”

Alyssa nods at him. “You will be your own assistant.”

“Correct, I need someone I can trust,” Greg says. “But I would also like the title to be secretly applied to you. Just stripped of its pomp and frills.”

“Okay…” Alyssa leans forward in her seat. “So you would be the regional manager and the assistant regional manager. Nick is your number two. I would be the secret assistant regional manager.”

Greg hums. “Well… let’s call it secret assistant to the regional manager. Do you accept?”

Alyssa fights to keep a neutral face. “Absolutely, I do.”

* * *

“I learned from Emma, if Greg ever asks you if you accept something secret, you reply, ‘Absolutely, I do.’”

Alyssa grins half-heartedly at the camera.

* * *

“So let me ask you right off the bat.” Dee Dee leans back in her chair as she interviews Trent. “What are your greatest strengths as a manager?”

“Well, Dee Dee, why don’t I tell you what my greatest weaknesses are?” Trent grins. “I work too hard. I care too much. And sometimes I can be too invested in my job.”

“Okay…” Dee Dee takes a breath. “And your strengths?”

“Well, my weaknesses are actually strengths,” Trent explains.

“Ah.”

* * *

It’s Carrie’s turn now, and she’s approaching the end of her interview with Dee Dee.

“So, that’s my basic five year plan,” she says. “And then after that, who knows?”

“Okay,” Dee Dee says. “Now, this may seem like an odd question, but… What do you think about Trent Oliver?”

“He’s a very nice man,” Carrie says hesitantly. “And he’s very well-suited for the job he has now.”

Dee Dee looks at her. “This is off the record.”

Carrie’s response is immediate. “He would be a disaster.”

* * *

Greg is painting the walls of his new office black. Nick and Alyssa help him out.

“This is so intimidating,” she promises.

“Anyone who comes in here is gonna have to take me seriously,” Greg says. “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Barry asks.

Alyssa steps up. “Official business, Glickman. “Don’t question the bossman.”

Greg smirks.

* * *

Emma checks her watch as Carrie comes back to join her on the couch in the waiting room.

“You know what? This might take a while,” she says. “You really don’t have to stay if you don’t want.”

“Okay, cool, because a bunch of my friends are meeting downtown for lunch.” Carrie’s eyes light up. “I was gonna meet them.”

“Okay,” Emma says.

Carrie gathers her things up. “So just… call me when you’re done?”

“Sure.”

“Good luck, Nolan,” Carrie says, squeezing Emma’s knee through her pants before standing up.

“Thank you,” Emma says, watching as Carrie walks off.

The receptionist answers a phone call with, “Dunder Mifflin, this is Grace.”

Emma looks up thoughtfully, and it’s clear that her mind is on another certain receptionist.

* * *

“They, uh, said they were going in another direction.” Trent stands before the office sheepishly. “So… it is with great honor and privilege that I announce to you that I have officially withdrawn my name for consideration from the corporate job.”

The camera zooms in on Greg, who looks crestfallen. Trent looks over at him and pauses for a moment.

“Why is my office black?”

“To intimidate my subordinates.” Greg’s voice is meek.

“That’s stupid,” Trent says.

“It was Nick’s idea.”

“You shouldn’t have taken it,” Trent tells him. “Bad management. Marcus, can you get me a coffee?”

Marcus shakes his head. “I don’t do that stuff anymore.”

“No, it’s for me, bimbo,” Trent says. He gasps. “Himbo.”

* * *

Greg finishes moving everything back to his own desk, and then walks up to Alyssa at reception.

“Alyssa, hello.”

“Greg, hello.”

“I wanted to thank you,” Greg says. “For helping me when you held the title of secret assistant to the regional manager. You served the office with great dignity.”

Without breaking eye contact, and entirely serious-looking, Alyssa salutes him.

Greg salutes her back.

* * *

“Now, Emma, do you have your quarterly numbers?” Dee Dee asks. “And that questionnaire?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Emma reaches for the folder that she’d gotten before she left the office.

“Sorry to make you fill that thing out,” Dee Dee says. “Stupid HR formality.”

Emma waves it off. “No, absolutely.”

She freezes, because something falls out of the folder and into her lap. It’s an ‘important note’ memo with Emma’s high school yearbook picture blu-tacked to it. The accompanying message is written in purple marker pen:

**Emma, don’t forget us when you’re famous! Alyssa.**

Emma stares at it, a wave of emotions washing over her in a very short amount of time. She swallows heavily, blinking when Dee Dee clears her throat.

“So, how do you think you’d function here in New York?”

Emma is glancing down at the memo again. “Sorry, what’s that? Oh—uh, great. I just, um, really appreciate the buildings and, uh, the people. And there’s just an energy that New York has, uh… Not to mention, they have places that are open past eight.”

Dee Dee chuckles. “You’ve been in the Scranton branch a long time. What have you liked most about that place?”

“Uh…” Emma’s thumb brushes over the yearbook picture. “The friendships.”

“Okay,” Dee Dee says. “Well, we want the person who takes this position to be here for the long haul. So…” she gestures to Emma. “Long haul. Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

Emma is silent.

* * *

It’s the night at the beach, before the earlier clip of Emma and Alyssa hugging, and Alyssa is standing with her feet in the water. Emma comes to a stop by her side, her eyes fixed on the ground.

“How are your feet?”

Alyssa masks her surprise quickly. “Medium rare. Thanks.”

She looks up at Emma with a little smile. Emma takes a deep breath.

“The real reason that I went to Stamford was because I wanted to be… not here,” she admits.

Alyssa nods. “I know.”

“And even though I came back…” Emma trails off, biting her lip as she mulls over her words. “I just feel like I’ve never really _come back_.”

Once again, Alyssa nods. A silence falls between the two of them; a silence that stretches on and on until Alyssa tilts her head to the side as she regards Emma softly. Her voice is quiet when she speaks, but it’s not shy.

“Well, I wish you would.”

* * *

“I haven’t heard anything,” Alyssa says. “But I bet Emma got the job. I mean, why wouldn’t she? She’s totally qualified and smart. Everyone loves her.”

The words from Alyssa’s interview continue, but the picture switches to Emma, sitting silently in her job interview.

“And if she never comes back again, that’s okay.”

Emma’s on her way out of the building.

“We’re friends, and I’m sure we’ll stay friends.”

The shot changes to one of Emma driving. She’s alone.

“It’s just… we never got the timing right, you know?” Alyssa says. “I shot her down, and then she did the same to me, and…”

The picture cuts back to Alyssa’s interview in the conference room.

“But you know what? It’s okay.” She nods at the camera. “I am totally fine. Everything is gonna be totally—”

She’s interrupted by the sound of the conference room door opening. The camera whips around to see Emma standing in the doorway.

“Alyssa. Sorry—” Emma catches sight of the camera. She turns her attention back to Alyssa. “Um… are you free for dinner tonight?”

Alyssa looks like she’s in shock. “Yes.”

“Alright.” Emma’s voice is soft, and she meets Alyssa’s gaze a little shyly. “Then it’s a date.”

The camera pans back over to Alyssa as the door closes. She looks, awestruck, at the camera. There are tears in her eyes. A helpless grin spreads across her face and she looks down like she can hardly believe that just happened. Biting her lip in a failed attempt to contain her smile, Alyssa shakes her head slightly in apparent disbelief, and looks back up and beyond the camera.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?”

* * *

Dee Dee sits in her office in New York. She’s speaking on the phone.

“So, I know we left the other day on a note of uncertainty,” she says. “But, after some more thought, I’m very pleased to be able to offer you this job. Great! I’m so glad. We’re all very excited you’re gonna be joining us.”

The picture cuts to Scranton, where Marcus is holding his phone up to his ear with a pleased grin on his face.

“I’m excited, too,” he says. “Okay. Bye.”

He hangs up the phone, glancing at the camera as his smile grows.


	15. fun run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhhhhhh my god it's been a while does anyone remember this fic? this episode is based off of episode 4x01!

Trent drives into work, keeping his eyes mostly on the road as the camera films him from the passenger seat.

“This is going to be a very good year,” he announces. “Very good. Emma’s back. My protégé Marcus is at corporate. Nick and Greg are rocking the sales team. I feel very blessed.”

He signals and turns to pull into the office parking lot. Suddenly, he yells, slamming on the brakes hard. The camera whip-pans to the front of the car, where Mo collides with the hood of the car and falls onto the tarmac with a thud.

The camera pans back to Trent, who sits in his seat with his mouth hanging open.

* * *

The IT guy who helped Trent with his email surveillance a year and half ago sits at Alyssa’s desk, shaking his head as he looks at her computer. Emma and Alyssa stand side by side on the other side of the desk, leaning against it. Alyssa looks sheepish.

“You know, generally it’s not a good idea to click on any internet offers that you haven’t requested,” the IT guy tells Alyssa. “What was the exact offer?”

“It was for a… video.” Alyssa’s cagey about it.

“Yeah, what kind of video?”

Alyssa blushes. “A celebrity sex tape.”

Emma’s eyes widen. She looks at Alyssa, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Really? What kind of celebrity?”

“Not relevant,” Alyssa says.

“How much you pay for it?”

“Not relevant,” Alyssa repeats.

“You _paid_ for it?” Emma’s laughing now.

“It all happened so fast!” Alyssa laughs. “I _knew_ it was fake; I just wanted to see how bad the photoshop was!”

Emma’s shoulders are shaking. “But you _paid_ for it!”

* * *

“I broke up with Carrie after the job interview,” Emma explains. “And, uh… it was a little awkward when she came back from the city.”

The picture cuts to Carrie berating Emma, filmed through the door to the break room. Emma’s voice continues to overlay the image.

“She told me very clearly that just because we were broken up, didn’t mean that she was going anywhere, because she’d worked really hard for her career. But the next day, her desk was empty.”

The shot cuts back to Emma in the conference room as she talks to the camera.

“And as for me and my current romantic life…” She pauses. “I am single now. And looking. So, if you know anybody.”

* * *

It’s Alyssa’s interview now.

“Emma and I went to dinner a few times when she got back from New York,” she explains. “I talked her through her break-up. It’s really nice to be good friends again.”

* * *

Kevin rolls his eyes at the camera. “Are you kidding me? Emma and Alyssa are totally hooking up! All they do is smile. They’re just keeping it a secret. Right?”

The camera pulls back to reveal Shelby sitting next to him with her arms folded over her chest.

“I don’t know. There’s no _evidence_ of intimacy,” she says, “but they’ve been in remarkably good moods. Could be other things. They might not be emotionally intelligent enough for _that_.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Kevin repeats, absolutely convinced that he’s right.

* * *

“And on Sunday, I’m thinking about going to that flea market,” Alyssa tells Emma as they’re still stood in front of the receptionist desk.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Emma says lightly. “I’m, uh, mountain biking with my roommates on Sunday.”

“Cool. Have fun with that.”

The camera zooms in on Kevin, who’s watching them from the other end of the office. He shakes his head in frustrated disbelief.

* * *

Trent walks into the office, looking almost in shock. He heads for his office but turns around at the last minute, walking to stand by Alyssa’s desk as he addresses the office at large.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Everyone turns to look at him. “Mo was hit by a car.”

There’s a chorus of shocked utterances; people asking when and where and how. Trent rubs at his eyes.

“It happened this morning in the parking lot. I took him to the hospital, and the doctors tried to save his life. They did the best that they could.”

Alyssa puts her hands over her mouth. Emma looks on in shock.

Trent clears his throat, continuing in the same solemn tone of voice. “And he is going to be okay.”

“What is wrong with you?” Barry shouts. “Why did you have to phrase it like that?”

“So he’s really going to be fine?” Shelby asks.

“Yes. He has a slight pelvical fracture,” Trent says. “But people have survived far worse.”

Alyssa lets out a breath. “Thank God you were there.”

“…Yeah.”

“Did you see who did it?” Nick asks.

“No need,” Greg supplies. “We can just check the security tapes.”

He makes to stand from his chair, but Trent stops him. “So… good news-bad news kind of thing. I was able to be on the scene so quickly because I was in the car that hit him.”

There’s a long pause that’s finally broken by Emma, who looks as if she can tell exactly what’s happened. “Who was driving?”

Trent shifts from foot to foot, not saying a word. Alyssa sighs.

“Oh, Trent.”

* * *

“One day Trent came in complaining about a speed bump on the highway,” Emma says. She pauses thoughtfully. “I wonder who he ran over then.”

* * *

Shelby stands by a back door to the office building, waiting like she’s expecting someone. Sure enough, a second later Kaylee opens the door.

“Hey, Shelbs,” she says. “Can you do me a little favor?”

“Of course,” Shelby says. “What is it?”

“Can you go to my place at lunch and give Sprinkles her medicine?” Kaylee frowns. “I’m being forced to go to the hospital to see Mo.”

“Sure thing. Oh, and check to see if Mo’s faking,” Shelby says. “I bet he cracked his pelvis at home and jumped in front of Trent’s car to sue or something.”

Kaylee smirks at her. “I wouldn’t put it past him.” She and Shelby grin at each other for a moment, before Kaylee hands her a piece of paper. “Okay, so there’s a diabetes shot. Roll the insulin in your hands. Don’t shake it. She gets an ace inhibitor with her meal. You have to put her right in front of her dish or she won’t see it because of the cataracts. Mix one capsule of omega fatty acid in with her kidney medicine, and you wanna give that to her fifteen minutes after she’s eaten. Oh, and there’s a fungal cream, too, but that’s explained in more detail on the paper.”

Shelby’s eyebrows are almost in her hairline by this point in Kaylee's spiel, but she nods anyway. It’s clearly a lot to go to for a cat, but she accepts it. Kaylee slides her hand into Shelby’s and tugs her into a quick kiss.

“Thank you,” she says to Shelby, and then she slips back inside the building.

* * *

Everyone sits in the break room at lunch as they plan the hospital visit.

“Well, I can take three in my car,” Alyssa supplies.

Emma nods. “I can also take three.”

Kevin frowns as he clearly realizes that they’re taking separate cars.

“I can drive, too,” Trent says. “Who wants shotgun?”

“You cannot be serious,” Barry says disbelievingly. “You ran a man over this morning.”

“Everyone _inside_ the car was fine, Barry!” Trent yells.

* * *

“Guess what? I have flaws.”

Trent is being interviewed in his office.

“What are they? Oh, I don’t know. I sing in the shower. Sometimes I spend too much time volunteering. Occasionally, I’ll hit somebody with my car. So sue me.”

He leans back in his seat for a moment, and then his eyes widen.

“No, don’t sue me.” He cringes. “That’s the opposite of the point that I’m trying to make.”

* * *

Shelby walks back into the office building. Kaylee waits for her in the lobby. The camera films them from afar. Shelby’s head is bowed.

“What’s wrong?” Kaylee asks immediately, as soon as Shelby is close.

“Kay… Sprinkles is dead.”

Kaylee freezes, tears springing to her eyes. “What?”

“She, um, was out of the house,” Shelby explains carefully. “And… she got ran over. Kaylee, I’m so sorry.”

“How was she even outside?” Kaylee cries. Shelby tries to put her arms around Kaylee, but she jerks back out of Shelby’s reach. “I have to go.”

* * *

“As it turns out, it’s worse than we thought,” Trent tells the group that afternoon. “Greg did not tell me until now, but he once put a bag over Mo’s head. And that bag had a bat in it.”

Barry and Angie exchange an incredulous look. Kaylee sniffs as Alyssa pats her on the shoulder. Shelby watches them sullenly.

“Mo has been exposed to rabies,” Trent continues, clearly not going to explain the bat situation further, “which is a thousand times worse than a tiny crack in his pelvis, but luckily I was able to take him to the hospital, which may have saved his life. And you know what we’re going to do about it?”

Nobody answers. Trent is unperturbed.

“We are going to hold a five-kilometer run. For charity. Rabies awareness charity.”

* * *

The camera follows Alyssa, a little after the end of the day, as she leaves the office. The August sun is shining brightly down on her as she heads for her car. Kevin sits in the backseat of his own car, watching her like a hawk. He hangs his head when he sees that she’s alone.

* * *

Kevin sighs. “Oh well. If they aren’t together now, then they probably never will be.”

* * *

The camera follows Alyssa’s car, filming through the windshield, as audio from one of Alyssa’s interviews from earlier in the day plays over it.

“I told you, I’m not dating anyone,” she says. “And even if I was, I don’t think it’s anyone’s business.”

Alyssa pulls over on a relatively busy street. The car with the camera in it slowly overtakes her.

“I mean when I do fall in love, like, when it’s for real… the last person who I’m gonna talk about it to is a camera crew, or my co-workers,” the Alyssa from earlier says.

Just as the camera is about to move on, someone opens the passenger side door of the car. It’s Emma. She gets into the car with a grin on her face, shuts the door behind her, and pulls Alyssa into a gentle kiss. The car with the camera in it stops in its tracks.

Once they separate, Alyssa beams to herself, and pulls away from the side of the road. She drives past the car without clocking the camera. Audio from her interview continues to play.

“But trust me, when I do fall in love… you’ll know.”

* * *

It’s the day of the run. Nick stands in the men’s bathroom, shirtless, as he cuts strips of medical tape.

“I’m terrified of nipple chafing,” he explains. “Once it starts, it is a vicious circle. You have sensitive nipples, they chafe. So they become more sensitive. So they chafe more.”

One of his nipples already has a cotton pad over it, held in place by strips of the tape. He prepares the cotton pad for his other nipple.

“I take precautions.”

* * *

Nick walks out of the bathroom, the cotton pads over his nipples poking absurdly through his tight shirt. He spots Kaylee making herself a cup of tea, dressed in black. She’s quiet, and appears to be shrinking in on herself.

“Hey, Kaylee,” Nick says cautiously. “I’m sorry about your cat.”

Kaylee’s shoulders start to shake with sobs.

* * *

“So, what’s your strategy for this race?” Emma asks Alyssa.

The two of them are sat snacking in the break room as the camera rounds the corner and gets closer to them. Barry is sitting at the next table over; it’s unclear how much attention he’s paying to their conversation.

Alyssa hums thoughtfully. “Well, I’m gonna start fast, then I’m gonna run fast in the middle, then I’m gonna end fast.”

“What?” Emma’s slight smile is the only thing that betrays the joke. “Why don’t more people do that?”

“Cause they’re stupid,” Alyssa giggles.

Emma looks at her with a soft expression, before she suddenly notices the camera that is practically in their faces. She looks at it in bemusement.

“What?”

* * *

The television screen in the conference room replays the spy footage of Alyssa’s car; Emma getting in and their kiss. The camera pulls out to reveal Emma and Alyssa sitting next to each other at the big table, side by side as they watch themselves on the screen. Alyssa turns to look at Emma with wide eyes, and Emma flounders.

“Oh, um, no, that’s not—” Emma jerks a thumb at the screen. “I mean, that wasn’t—”

“Yeah, that was, um…” Alyssa’s lost for words.

Emma tries again. “I mean, I see how it could seem a bit like we—how it looks like—but nowadays you can edit anything, right?” She glances at Alyssa, who nods. “You can edit anything to look like anything.”

“Yeah, I gave her a ride home because…” Alyssa trails off.

The two of them look at each other, a silent conversation passing between them for a moment. Alyssa turns to look at the camera crew.

“We’re dating,” she blurts out.

Emma’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, before she manages a stunned, “Wow.”

A smile tugs at her lips. Alyssa looks at her excitedly, clearly unburdened. Emma shakes her head, biting her lip in an attempt to temper her grin.

“There it is,” she says.

“Yeah.” Alyssa turns to the camera again, blushing. “We haven’t told anybody, but it’s going really great.” She looks back at Emma. “Right?”

Emma’s never looked this happy in front of the camera before. She looks at Alyssa with sincerity and gentleness. “It is going really great.” She blushes, too, biting her lip again and looking away. “It’s, um, very nice, and sort of changes everything.”

“It does change everything,” Alyssa says, her voice soft. They share a little laugh, before Emma focuses up again.

“I mean, like today. Normally, it would be kind of a drag, right?” Emma shrugs. “Going on some five kilometer run for a non-existent cause, just so your really insecure boss can feel important, but today I think that…” she trails off, resting her chin in her hands as she blushes even more. “It could be kinda fun.”

Alyssa isn’t even trying to hide the affection in her eyes as she looks at her girlfriend. “Yeah. Let’s… take a bite out of rabies.”

“Let’s… do that,” Emma snorts, both of them dissolving into silent giggles. Alyssa closes her eyes and knocks her forehead against Emma’s shoulder.

* * *

The gunshot signals the start of the race, and Trent – wearing a blue t-shirt with an absurdly long 5K title emblazoned on it – immediately sprints off out of the parking lot ahead of everyone else. Greg, also running like a madman, is on his heels. Angie cheers for them. Kevin and Nick jog together, with Kaylee and Shelby just behind them. Barry and Sheldon look over it already. Jules flirts with a random passer-by before catching up to them as they all slow to a walk.

* * *

The picture cuts to Nick being interviewed before the race.

“I’ve walked two marathons, so I’m pretty sure I can handle a 5K.”

He takes a sip from his water.

“The key is drafting, to eliminate wind resistance.”

* * *

Kevin runs along the sidewalk with Nick behind him. Nick’s hunched over, making himself as small as possible, as he runs in Kevin’s slipstream.

* * *

Emma and Alyssa are the last out of the parking lot, both dressed in shorts and the same blue shirt that Trent’s wearing. Emma makes like she’s going to start running, but then she immediately settles into a walk. Alyssa laughs at her, falling into step beside her as they amble away down the sidewalk.

“Oh, we’re in last place,” Alyssa notes.

Emma tuts. “Would you look at that.”

“Darn it.” Alyssa’s voice is dripping with sarcasm.

As they walk away from the camera, Emma reaches for Alyssa’s hand. Alyssa interlocks their fingers, and they walk steadily, swinging their joined hands between them.

* * *

Nick is still running behind Kevin, but he’s grimacing.

“Oh God, my nipples,” he whines. “It’s starting!”

* * *

Barry, Sheldon and Jules are sat in a beer garden, having clearly taken a cab off-route. Sheldon asks a server for another round of drinks.

“So, we got, like… another twenty minutes?” Jules asks. Barry nods.

* * *

Emma and Alyssa are still strolling along the race route hand in hand. Emma’s attention is pulled to the side.

“Ooh, an estate sale.” They stop in front of the open garage. “Wanna go in?”

Alyssa pretends to think about it. “I don’t know, I’m really committed to winning.”

“Okay, but what if I told you that all the money you spend here goes to preventing a disease that’s already been cured?” Emma drops Alyssa’s hand and gestures to the sale with an overly earnest expression.

“Hm, then yes,” Alyssa says.

“That’s what I thought,” Emma laughs. They leave the sidewalk and make their way to the house. “Let’s do some good.”

* * *

Kevin pauses before crossing a road and Nick runs smack into the back of him.

“God, watch the nipples, Kevin!” he groans.

“Back off me!”

* * *

“How are you feeling?” Shelby asks Kaylee cautiously, as the two jog side by side. “Any better?”

“No.” Kaylee’s answer is short. Shelby closes her eyes.

“Wait a second,” she says, grabbing Kaylee’s arm and bringing them both to a stop. She pants for a moment, a little out of breath, before swallowing hard and saying, “I didn’t tell you the full truth about Sprinkles.”

This gets Kaylee’s attention. “What are you talking about?”

“I—I went to my car before I shut the front door properly and she must’ve gotten out,” Shelby admits, squeezing her eyes shut tight. “When I backed up my car, I… well, I don’t think either of us saw the other.”

“You…”

“Kaylee, I am so sorry,” Shelby pleads with her as Kaylee rips her arm out of her grip. “It was a complete accident and I feel awful and—”

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me you murdered my cat?” Kaylee yells.

“Accidentally murdered!” Shelby corrects desperately. “And I wanted to! But you were already so upset when I told you she was dead, and then you ran off, and I didn’t want to hurt you even more. I thought I was helping, but then I realized I had to come clean. Kaylee, I’m so—”

“No, just… stop.” Kaylee steps back, eyes full of tears. “We tell each other _everything_.”

She turns and keeps running, leaving Shelby standing alone on the sidewalk.

* * *

Alyssa is holding a weird lamp when she and Emma walk out of the garage.

“Do you like it?” she holds it up for the camera crew to see. “It’s kind of design-y and cool. And it was eight dollars.”

She hands the lamp to Emma, whose eyebrows raise in surprise as she smiles at Alyssa.

“Oh, and I get to… carry it,” she notes.

* * *

Trent, having burned up all his energy, is now lagging as he gets overtaken by Greg, Angie, and Kaylee – who is running furiously. Trent’s pace slows to a walk. He’s drenched in sweat. Kevin overtakes him. Nick is some distance behind him, moving gingerly. There are small bloodstains on his shirt, right over his nipples.

As Angie finishes in first place, narrowly beating Greg and then Kaylee, a cab pulls up by the finish line. Barry, Sheldon and Jules get out of it.

* * *

Trent is sitting a few hundred feet from the finish line. He looks completely exhausted, his skin is pale, and he looks like he could hurl at any second. He’s been there so long that Emma and Alyssa have caught up to him. They subtly disentangle their hands as Alyssa approaches him.

“Trent? What are you doing here?”

Emma takes a step towards him, still holding Alyssa’s new lamp. “Did you come back for us, or…”

“I can’t finish the race,” Trent gasps. “I feel so weak.”

“Did you drink any water?” Alyssa asks. Trent shakes his head. “Well, you’re probably dehydrated.”

“I can’t do anything about it,” Trent says, shaking his head and looking down.

“Well, you can start with a glass of water,” Emma suggests.

“No, not the water thing.” Trent looks up at the two of them. “The world sucks. Rabies is a thing, and there are so many other _things_ , and I just… can’t do anything about it. You know. Rabies wins.”

Emma and Alyssa exchange a glance, perhaps sensing that Trent’s rabies issue goes a lot deeper than just that. “You can’t think like that, Trent, or it’ll always get you down. We were having a nice day.”

“I’m still having a nice day,” Alyssa supplies.

Emma glances at her. “You are?”

“Yeah.” Alyssa smiles at Emma before nodding to the lamp. “Look, Trent. Eight dollars.”

“That’s a good deal,” Trent admits.

“And, look,” Alyssa says, sighing and crouching down beside Trent. “Mo doesn't have rabies. _You_ don’t have rabies. You’re probably never going to have rabies. So you don’t really have to think about it too much.”

Emma nods. “If you’re worried about all the _things_ then there’s no room for anything good.”

“Guys, if everybody felt that way, then nothing would get done,” Trent says.

“Yeah, but there’s other – better – people out there who are helping,” Alyssa tells him.

“You just think I can’t make a difference,” Trent grumbles, a little delirious. “You don’t know me. I _can_ make a difference. Remember, I’m the one who started this whole thing off by hitting Mo with my car.”

“Yeah.” Alyssa frowns a little.

Trent heaves himself to his feet. “And I owe it to him to finish this race.”

Ever so slowly, Trent struggles down the sidewalk the last few hundred feet to the finish line, Emma and Alyssa walking behind him. He sweats and swears and groans the whole way, but he actually makes it. He crosses the finish line.

And promptly vomits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not entirely sure when updates for this will come because im also working on soccer au as well as some one shot ideas but i dont plan to neglect it for as long anymore whoops
> 
> thank you for reading!!


	16. money (+dunder mifflin infinity)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly taken elements from episode 4x04, money, but i threw in the cold open from 4x02 at the start for fun!
> 
> enjoy!

Alyssa retrieves a can of coke from one of the vending machines in the break room as Emma walks in. She straightens up and grins.

“Hey!”

“Hey!” Emma says back, a certain affection to her tone that is reserved for Alyssa alone.

Alyssa holds out the can of coke. “Got you one.”

“Wow, thanks,” Emma says as she takes it. She fishes in her pocket for change. “I was gonna grab some chips. You want some?”

Alyssa smiles, but shakes her head. “No, thanks. We’re still having lunch together today, right?”

“Hm.” Emma pretends to think on it. “I _guess_.”

Alyssa shakes her head fondly and Emma’s façade breaks into a smile. Alyssa walks out of frame as Emma turns to the vending machine with the food in it, but she reappears a second later. She leans in and presses a kiss to Emma’s cheek, backing away with a grin.

“How dare you,” Emma reprimands her playfully. Alyssa just raises her eyebrows flirtatiously and walks away.

The camera follows her, but it lingers as she passes Sheldon in the annex, who narrows his eyes at what he's just seen.

* * *

“I can’t stand the sight of people being happy,” Sheldon tells the camera. “Not here. Besides, things have been slow ever since Trent hit Mo with his car, so…”

* * *

Alyssa is sat at her desk, looking over a memo titled, ‘Public Displays of Affection’. She looks up at Emma, who shrugs amusedly, and pulls a face. Everyone in the office is reading a copy of the memo in varying states of confusion.

“Hey, Sheldon,” Trent says, walking into the office with a copy of the memo in his hand. “What’s this? ‘I just want to remind everyone about the company rules involving PDA, or public displays of affection.’”

“Yes, some people in the office have complained… about other people engaging in PDA,” Sheldon says evasively. “I just wanna remind them that it’s not appropriate to do that.”

Trent scoffs. “Lighten up, Saperstein.”

Kaylee clears her throat and addresses the office at large. “For the record, I have never been involved with anyone at work in any capacity.”

The camera pans to Shelby, who looks pained as she stares down at the piece of paper in her hands.

“It wasn’t about you,” Sheldon sighs. “Alright, look. Everyone, the complaint was about Emma and Alyssa.”

Trent’s head whips around, quick as lightning. “No way.”

Emma puffs her cheeks out.

“You guys are together?” Angie looks as though Christmas has just come early.

“Um…” Emma clears her throat. “Yep. Yes, we are.”

Alyssa’s eyes widen even as her expression turns giddy at hearing Emma say it out loud to their friends. Trent whoops, ecstatic. Kevin punches the air with his fist.

“I _knew_ it!” he tells a sullen Shelby.

Alyssa gestures to the memo. “Sheldon, was this your fun little way of congratulating us?”

“…Sure.” Sheldon barely contains his eyeroll.

“Okay, mind is exploding,” Trent squeals, walking over to Emma’s desk. He gestures to Alyssa. “Get over here. Come on.”

He grabs Alyssa and Emma’s hands in his own and stands between them, rolling Emma’s chair away from her desk and towards himself. Emma and Alyssa both look amused, if a little embarrassed. Trent clears his throat, a speech incoming.

“Everyone, this is a day that will live in infamy,” he says. “Because today is the day that Emma and Alyssa become one.”

“Actually, we’ve been dating for a couple months,” Emma points out. Alyssa bites down on her bottom lip as she looks at her with hearts in her eyes.

Trent ignores the interjection. “I love you guys so much.”

He bends down to give the still-seated Emma a hug, and then hugs Alyssa, too. The phone rings and Alyssa slips out of the hug, walking back to her desk to answer it.

“Let it ring,” Trent proclaims. “Let the bells of Dunder Mifflin chime out your love. Because… this is really good!” He looks like he’s about to cry. Emma stifles a laugh behind her hand as Trent carries on. “My heart soars… with the eagle’s nest.”

* * *

Greg answers the phone with his usual, “Dunder Mifflin, this is Greg.” He pauses, places the person on hold, and fishes a binder out of his desk drawer. Emma looks on, curious, as he flips through the pages and picks the phone up again. “Nolan Farms, how may I help you?” Emma’s forehead creases. “Yes, we have availability on those nights. How many in your party?” He pauses. “Oh, I’m sorry. No king beds. No queen either. See, we make our own mattresses that don’t conform to traditional sizes. Closest would be twin. Okay. Goodbye.”

He hangs up the phone and notices Emma staring at him.

“None of your business.”

“Are you running a bed and breakfast?” Emma asks. “Out of gran’s old farm?”

“It’s not a B&B,” Greg insists.

* * *

Greg’s being interviewed in the conference room.

“Agrotourism is a lot more than a Bed and Breakfast. It consists of tourists coming to a farm, showing them around, giving them a bed, giving them breakfast.”

* * *

“Does gran know about this?” Emma asks.

“Yes,” Greg says immediately, with a sideways glance at the camera. “Notice pending.” The phone rings again, and he answers quickly. “Greg Nolan, Dunder Mifflin.”

“Hello, I’m looking for a room.” The voice on the other end of the line is Alyssa’s. Emma looks over at her in surprise, clearly unaware that she’s been eavesdropping.

Greg glares at Alyssa. “Okay, this is a misuse of company phones.”

“It says here you cater to the elderly,” Alyssa says, ignoring him and looking at her computer, still speaking into the phone.

“Where did you read that?” Greg demands.

“TripAdvisor.”

Greg narrows his eyes, but continues. “How many in your party?”

“Two,” says Alyssa. Emma’s eyes widen in surprise. Alyssa sends her a quick wink.

“We offer our tours of the fields and of the barn,” Greg tells her, still on the phone, too. "Perhaps you’d be interested in a table-making demonstration?”

* * *

Outside in the car park, Shelby and Kaylee’s cars are parked next to each other with the trunks open. Shelby hands items from her trunk over to Kaylee. They don’t seem to be aware of the camera’s presence.

“Sweater.” Shelby gives it to her. “Another sweater. Hairbrush.” She clears her throat. “Bra.”

“Isn’t this yours?” Kaylee frowns.

Shelby shakes her head quickly, cheeks red. “No. I remember you wearing it.”

Kaylee takes it from her without making eye contact. Shelby quickly shuts the trunk of her car, turns on her heel, and hurries away back into the office. Kaylee watches her go for a moment, almost wistful, before she shakes her head at herself and her expression hardens once more.

* * *

"Yes, I recently went through a break-up," Shelby says, face impressively impassive. "But I'm fine. I'm really fine." 

Her jaw clenches.

"Can I go back to work now?"

* * *

“We have three rooms to choose from, each with a different theme,” Greg explains, the audio playing over an establishing shot of a farmhouse. The picture cuts to inside; Greg sitting opposite a casually dressed Emma and Alyssa. Emma looks around the farmhouse in bewilderment while Alyssa talks to Greg.

“What are the themes?”

“America, irrigation, and nighttime,” Greg says.

Alyssa’s eyes light up. “Irrigation.”

Emma nods along. “Nice.”

“I’ll put you down for irrigation,” Greg says, standing up from his chair.

As he goes, Emma nudges Alyssa’s arm with her own. “This is so crazy,” she whispers. “I used to spend my weekends here as a kid, and now… I have _no_ idea what Greg’s done to the place since gran moved out to something smaller.”

“Why did she let Greg move in here?” Alyssa asks. Emma gives her a helpless shrug.

Greg pops his head back in the room. “Oh, do you have any special needs or dietary restrictions?”

“Yes,” Emma says, quick as a flash. “We will be requiring a bedtime story.”

“No.”

Emma pouts. “Not even ‘Harry Potter’?”

* * *

Greg opens the door to the irrigation room, which is wooden and bare, and has pipes protruding through the walls. Emma gives the camera a look.

“I’ll come and get you before the table-making demonstration,” Greg assures Emma and Alyssa, before leaving them to it.

Emma sits down on one of the creaky twin beds. Alyssa sits down on the other one, facing her. They both dissolve into giggles.

“I’d say one in six,” Emma says thoughtfully, once she’s regained control over herself.

Alyssa’s brow creases in confusion. “What?”

“Oh, I thought you asked me what our chances were of being murdered here tonight,” Emma says.

Alyssa snorts.

* * *

Emma stands outside the farmhouse for her interview.

“You know, I just realized that this is Alyssa’s and my first night away together,” she comments. “I used to play it over in my head, and it was just a little bit different. Maybe a… nice hotel, or a romantic dinner. Honestly, I didn’t think Greg would be involved at all. And, uh, I always imagined less manure.”

The picture cuts to Greg and a wheelbarrow full of manure, a little earlier in the evening, trying to encourage Alyssa to pick up a shovel and spread it over the field the three of them are stood in. Emma looks like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or run away.

* * *

That night, Greg reads from a book as the camera pulls back to reveal he’s sat on one of the beds in the irrigation room. On the other bed, Alyssa is sat in front of Emma, leaning back comfortably against her chest with Emma’s arms around her. They’re both in their pajamas.

“’And Harry saw the white hand raise its wand and felt Voldemort’s surge of vicious anger,’” Greg reads aloud. “’Saw the frail old man on the floor write in agony: “Harry”. It was over as quickly as it had come. Harry stood shaking in the darkness, clutching the gate into the garden, his heart racing.’”

Alyssa closes her eyes in content, snuggling further into Emma’s embrace.

* * *

The next day at the office, Nick watches Kaylee walk past him, his gaze lingering. He backs away all the way to Alyssa’s desk, planting his feet so wide apart that he can lower himself more to Alyssa’s level.

“So…”

Alyssa glances at him, confused. “What’s up?”

“Me, all night,” Nick says. “Dreaming about Kaylee.”

Behind Alyssa at the shredder, Shelby stiffens.

“Don’t be gross,” Alyssa mutters.

“I wasn’t!” Nick insists. “I just… You need to set me up with her, okay? She’s totally not responding to my moves.”

“What moves?”

Nick sighs. “I’ve moonwalked past accounting, like, ten times."

“I can’t believe that’s not working,” Alyssa says.

“Yeah.”

“Um… I don’t know if I really see you two together,” Alyssa says. Shelby glances at Alyssa over her shoulder.

“Really?” Nick frowns. “Well, maybe you should look in the smart part of your brain.”

“She can be kind of severe,” Alyssa warns him.

Nick scoffs. “So can I. I punched a hole in a wall that one time.”

“That’s right, you did,” Alyssa says, doing her best to hold back laughter. Behind her, Shelby clenches her jaw.

* * *

“Oh, Emma, Alyssa.” Barry spots them as soon as he walks into the break room during lunch. “There you are.”

He sits opposite them at a table, beaming at the pair of them.

“Hey, Barry,” Emma says. “Everything alright?”

“Everything is, for once, perfect,” Barry declares. “And do you know why?”

Alyssa shakes her head. “Why?”

“Because,” Barry rests his chin in his hand, “this young relationship blooming is exactly what this cynical old gay needed. Don’t pay Sheldon any attention. He’s just single and bitter. I mean, so am I, but unlike him, I’m thrilled to see the pair of you together at last. Disregard that ridiculous memo all you want, you crazy kids.”

Emma looks amused, but still touched. She brushes a finger over the back of Alyssa’s hand. “Thank you, Barry.”

* * *

Nick beams at the camera. “I got Kaylee a gift. I think she’s really going to like it.”

The picture cuts to Nick capturing a stray cat in a cardboard box, crudely-done holes puncturing the lid for oxygen. The camera then shows Kaylee opening the box.

“I found it wandering around outside, but I put in the note that the cat came to find her. That they were destined to be together.”

Kaylee reads the note, glancing over at Nick with the barest hint of a smile gracing her lips

“I got game.”

* * *

Kaylee walks over to Nick’s desk, cat in her arms, and clears her throat.

“You may ask me out to dinner,” she says. “Nothing fancy. No bars. No patios. No vegetables. And no seafood.”

Before Nick can say anything, Kaylee turns and walks away again. She glances in Shelby’s direction, but Shelby is firmly looking down at the floor. A moment passes, and then Shelby pushes her chair back, stands up, and bolts out of the office.

Alyssa catches Emma’s gaze, clearly worried, and it seems as though a spark of realization lights up her brain. Emma’s eyes widen, seemingly on the exact same wavelength, and she sends Alyssa a reassuring nod before getting up and following Shelby.

* * *

Shelby is curled up in the stairwell, tears silently streaming down her face. The camera films her from far away, keeping its distance from her pain. Emma walks down the flight of stairs to join her, and after a moment’s hesitation, she sits down next to Shelby. She’s silent for a moment before she speaks.

“Did I ever tell you why I left Scranton?” Her voice is quiet. Shelby shakes her head. “Yeah. Didn’t think I had. Well, it was all about Alyssa,” Emma admits. “She was with Rachel and… I just couldn’t take it. I mean, I lost it, Shelby.”

Shelby sniffs.

“I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t concentrate on anything.” Emma chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip. “And then weird stuff, like… food had no taste. So, my solution was to move away. It was awful. And it is something that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

She looks over at Shelby, whose head is against the wall as she stares off blankly into space.

“And, Shelby, you’re my _friend_.”

Shelby says nothing. After a long moment, Emma sighs and stands up. She reaches out a hand, but thinks better of it, and leaves Shelby be. After she leaves, Shelby turns to where she’d been sitting, reaching out like she thinks Emma is still there. But she’s alone.

* * *

Emma opens the door to the stairwell, head bowed, and walks back towards the office. Her expression, when the camera catches sight of it, is somewhere between thoughtful and determined. She picks her head up a little more as she opens the door into the bullpen.

Alyssa is standing at a filing cabinet behind her desk, looking over some papers. She looks up as she sees Emma coming back into the office, striding towards her. Alyssa smiles softly at her.

“Hey, I was thinking about dinner—"

Emma walks up to Alyssa, reaches out and cups her face in her hands, and draws her in for a kiss, cutting off the rest of her sentence. The kiss lingers, firm, as Alyssa’s free hand finds the back of Emma’s neck, fingers sliding up into her hair. They break apart after a long moment, both a little breathless as they gaze at each other.

Emma is the first to recover. “Uh, dinner.”

Alyssa blushes, glancing over her shoulder at the rest of the office before looking at Emma again. Her eyes drop to Emma’s lips.

“Let’s see, maybe we should try the new Italian place,” Emma suggests.

“Okay,” Alyssa says, a little shakily.

Emma grins at her, a bit flustered, too. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Emma nods, her eyes flicking between Alyssa’s. The air appears to crackle between them.

Finally, Emma tears herself away and walks back to her own desk. Alyssa watches her go, enraptured.

* * *

“Emma’s just… really passionate about Italian food,” Alyssa says, sat in the conference room for her interview. She’s still blushing; her smile widens.

* * *

It’s Emma’s turn for an interview now.

“Yep,” she says. “I’m very passionate about Italian food.”

The picture cuts back to Alyssa sitting back down at her desk, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to temper her giddy smile as she watches Emma go. She hides the lower half of her face behind the papers she’s holding. Emma’s voice is heard over the top of the visuals.

“In fact…” she says, soft and careful. “I’m in love with Italian food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as if writing during the current situation wasn't hard enough for me i also went and got a job so that also limits my writing time. that being said i'm trying my best to update this and soccer au and also write the oneshots i have in my head so bear with me! thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! ily all <3

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! please let me know what you think, as this is very very different in style to anything i've ever written before!


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